


Jackson Days

by ehefic



Series: Gravity [2]
Category: The Last of Us (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, canon depression, day-to-day life, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 103,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25315567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ehefic/pseuds/ehefic
Summary: Plenty had changed by the time Ellie showed up at the fateful dance that kicked off Part II. In Jackson, Ellie grew up, fell in and out of love, weathered lies and betrayal, and got a little older, a little more jaded.This is that story.Rated T except for part of chapters 20 and 26.COMPLETE, EPILOGUE POSTED
Relationships: Cat/Ellie (The Last of Us), Dina/Ellie (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel (The Last of Us)
Series: Gravity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887190
Comments: 736
Kudos: 1183





	1. New Friends, New Scars

**Author's Note:**

> If I could have titled this with an image, it would have been Ellie leaning against a porch railing acting super awkward about things with Dina. This is a slow-roll tour of Ellie's adolescence in Jackson before things go south.

It’s a little alien to feel safe again in Jackson, after so long on the road with Joel. Boston was kinda safe, too, but there was tension underneath, with the soldiers clogging the streets, stuff blowing up in the distance. Plus even in the boarding school she never really had much freedom. Jackson is a weird combo of both, where she’s safe from infected, but free to kind of do what she wants.

The wildest thing about Jackson is all the food. There’s just food everywhere—enough for everyone, even if you’re really, really hungry. Ellie stuffs jerky and almonds in her pockets at every meal, like she can’t even stop herself. In Boston, she used to tell herself the rations were cool, like how astronauts had to eat gross freeze-dried shit on the moon, but it was worth it because they were on the moon. Then again, she wasn’t on the moon, so it never felt that convincing.

Her third time swiping snacks, she feels eyes on her. There’s a girl a little ways away, probably Ellie’s age, with big dark eyes and this kind of coy smirk. Ellie freezes in place, her hand halfway in her pocket. The girl kind of laughs, probably at her, and then turns back to the other kids she’s with. Ellie finishes up and hurries the fuck out of there.

\--

They assigned Joel to a pretty nice house, and at first Ellie thought they were going to stay there together, kind of like a family. She wasn’t really sure how she felt about that one way or the other. Joel knows she’s not Sarah, and she knows Joel isn’t her dad. Now that their Firefly mission fizzled out, she’s not totally sure what they are to each other, but everyone seems to know they belong to each other.

So she’s a little surprised when Joel leads her out to the back and opens the door to the garage and it’s got all her shit inside, and it’s converted into kind of like a little apartment thing, just for her. Her clothes are in the closet, her journal on the desk. Joel found a Savage Starlight poster somewhere and hung it. The idea of living with Joel like a little family was pretty weird, but this feels weird, too. Kind of cold.

Then again, things with Joel have been a little frosty since they got back, anyway. Maybe it’s better to have a little space.

\--

Joel and Tommy and Maria are really adamant that Ellie’s too young for patrol, which is some real bullshit, but Ellie isn’t going to let herself get soft in the meantime. One night, like a week after they move in, she stuffs her backpack with rocks and bricks and goes for a run around the town.

The streets are quiet this late, except for the lookouts posted on the walls. It’s easy to avoid anyone who’d look at her funny. She guesses here in Jackson, it probably does look kinda weird to go for a run at night in jeans with a big heavy bag. Whatever. Fuck anyone looking at her funny. She’s gonna get on patrol if it’s the last thing she does. She can’t take the domesticity around here all day every day for the rest of her life.

This is actually a pretty nice way to get to know the town better. Ellie’s been trying to learn the layout. It’s been a while since she was anywhere long enough to just know where shit is, instead of having to check a map or look for signs or ask Joel. Probably not since school in Boston. She makes a wide circle to avoid the stables and medical station near the gate, where the night guards will be, and instead jogs toward the playground.

She jogs to a stop for a moment because there aren’t a lot of buildings over here and the sky is so, so pretty. It looks grayer here than it did out on the road, since Jackson gives off a lot of light, even this late. There are spots where the stars are almost invisible because the sky is gray instead of black. It’s cool to see that humans can still make a little bit of a mark on space. Maybe someday—

“Hey.”

Ellie almost shits her pants. She whirls around, fists raised, to see the girl who stared at her the other day. Her hair is dark and thick, tied up in a ponytail. She has dark, pretty eyes and a strong nose. She’s smiling the same way she did the other day—coy, or maybe smug.

“Jesus,” Ellie says. “What the fuck?”

“I’m Dina,” says the girl. She walks right up to Ellie, still smiling. It reminds Ellie a little of Riley, back when they met. They have that same confidence, the confidence Ellie tries to channel when she feels nervous, or scared.

Ellie crosses her arms tight and leans against the fence in what she hopes is a cool, casual pose. “Hi, Dina,” she says, trying the name out.

Dina hooks her thumbs in her back pockets and comes to a stop, significantly closer to Ellie’s face than Ellie expected. Ellie can feel her breath almost. “You’re Ellie? Right?”

Ellie swallows. “Um, how’d you know that? I mean, yeah, I am.”

“New people in town—always big news,” she says. She leans back just slightly and looks Ellie up and down.

Her eyes feel like a heat lamp; Ellie feels her face getting hot. “What?”

“So what’s your deal?” Dina says, lingering on Ellie’s ratty Converse, the bandage wrapped over her bite scar. “Where’d you come here from?”

Ellie makes a weird noise on accident, like a laugh mixed with a gasp. She clears her throat. “Um, shouldn’t you already know that, if it’s such big news?”

Dina smirks. “You’re funny. There are rumors, but I have the source right here.”

Ellie looks around. It’s still dark; the street still empty. “Um, we came here from Salt Lake City. Or, I guess from Boston.”

The smirk turns curious. “Boston? That’s really far. How’d you get all the way out here? Wait—how’d you even know this was here, to get to?”

“Oh. Um.” Ellie’s arms drop and she twists her fingers together. Should she lie? Joel didn’t really say what he was going to tell Tommy. “Well, Joel wanted to find his brother, Tommy. And… we ended up here.” She congratulates herself on giving a true but vague answer.

Dina touches Ellie’s forearm lightly, turning the bandage toward her. Ellie startles, her skin coming alive under Dina’s fingers. She can feel the hairs standing on end.

“What happened here?” Dina’s asking, super casual, totally not noticing Ellie freaking out.

Ellie pulls her arm out of Dina’s hand—except she doesn’t, actually. She tells her arm to do it, but nothing happens. Weird. She wets her lip and says, “Nothing, just, um, hurt it. On the way here.”

Dina nods and releases her. She looks at Ellie again, smiling. “It’s cool to have another kid show up here. You wanna hang out?”

“What, like… now?”

“Yeah.” Dina smirks. “I’m sorry, are you like, super busy zoning out in a playground alone at night?”

“Whatever,” Ellie snaps, but Dina just keeps smirking at her. “What… what do you even wanna do?”

Dina apparently interprets that as a yes. “C’mon, this way!” She starts off down the road, not even looking back.

After a few seconds’ pause, Ellie mutters, “Fuck,” and jogs after her.

\--

“Where are we even going?” Ellie asks when she catches up.

“Let’s go watch a movie,” Dina says, easily.

Huh. Ellie likes movies. “Won’t we wake up, like, your mom or whoever?” she asks.

“I live on my own,” Dina says. She sounds a little guarded.

Ellie shoves her hands in her pockets. “My mom died too.”

Dina glances at her. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

“I never really knew her much.” Ellie scuffs her shoe on the pavement. “Did you, um… so how did you get here?”

“Well, I traveled with my sister for a while, before she…” Dina trails off. Ellie struggles for something to say, but eventually Dina continues: “Anyway, I mean, what are you gonna do, give up and die? So I found my own way. I was with a group when I got here. They wanted to move on, but I stayed.”

Ellie tries to imagine that. “Wow, that really sucks.”

They walk in silence for a bit. “Can I ask you a question?” Dina asks.

“I think you just did,” Ellie jokes.

Dina punches her in the arm, kinda hard. “Ow, jeez,” she laughs, rubbing the spot.

“Thought you were all tough and shit,” Dina teases.

“I am!” Ellie says. “You just, um, hit a bruise, is all.”

Dina laughs out loud. Her laugh is really pretty. “More like _left_ a bruise, I bet.” She goes to pull Ellie’s sleeve back.

“Whatever!” Ellie says again, fending her off.

They turn onto the residential streets. “Down this way,” Dina instructs.

“What was your question, anyway?” Ellie asks, tentatively.

Dina locks eyes with her for a moment and seems to consider something. “What kind of movies do you like?” she asks.

“Oh. I don’t know.” Ellie thinks about it. “I like, like, space stuff, and action movies, I guess. But I never really got to watch that many.”

Dina nods. “Yeah, I never saw one til I moved here. Then I was like, whaaat? They do movie night here sometimes. I think they just want to keep us out of trouble.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, you know, the _teenagers_ ,” she says, looking at Ellie meaningfully and making air quotes with her fingers. “Anyway, I stole a couple of the tapes a while ago, but I think they moved them when they noticed. So hopefully you like Fight Club.”

“What’s Fight Club?” Ellie asks. It sounds awesome.

“The only movie I have where the whole tape plays without skipping.”

\--

Dina’s place is really similar to Ellie’s, but hers looks like it used to be a shed, not a garage. Ellie hovers by the door and glances around. It’s pretty sparse, with almost no decorations, even less than Ellie’s place. Dina does have a pull-up bar and a couple of dumbbells in one corner. “How long ago did you get here?” Ellie asks.

Dina pauses and considers. “Like a year, I guess?” she says, squatting by a drawer and pulling out a thick black cassette.

“Oh. Long time,” Ellie says.

“Yeah, guess so.” Dina turns on a small TV set up on a milk crate next to the bed. “C’mon. I wanna have time to watch the whole thing, and I have to get up early.”

Ellie walks over to her, a little stiff. She drops her bag to the floor by the bed and winces when the bricks make a loud noise against the concrete.

“What do you even have in there?” Dina asks. She raises an eyebrow.

A shiver runs hard down Ellie’s back. “I—uh,” she stutters, fumbling for a lie. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Dina clearly doesn’t buy that. A grin spreads slowly across her face, then she dives for the bag.

Ellie startles and tries to stop her. “No—it’s—”

“The fuck?” Dina holds up one of the bricks. “What, did they assign you to a midnight construction shift or something?”

“No,” Ellie spits, caught. She struggles again for some lie, then sighs. “I was just using them for weight. I’m training so I can start going on patrols soon. They put me on the stupid farm rotation. It’s fuckin’ boring.”

Instead of laughing, Dina seems satisfied and puts the brick back in. “Oh. I get that.”

“You… do?” Dina scoots over on the bed and Ellie perches on the end, hesitant.

“Yeah. A lot of the kids here already forgot what it’s like out there.” Dina presses a button on the TV and it whirs loudly. “They’re so eager to get soft.” She shakes her head.

“Yeah,” Ellie says. “Yeah, I don’t wanna be like that.”

Dina grins at her. “So don’t.”

\--

Just when Ellie’s feeling relaxed, splayed out on her stomach on the bed, Dina adjusts and lays her head on Ellie’s back. Ellie gets that electrified feeling again, that shiver. “Can you even see like that?” she asks. Her head is definitely in Dina’s way.

“I can see perfectly,” Dina says, flippant.

Ellie swallows and tries to focus on the movie.

\--

The next day, Ellie asks Tommy where she should go to get soap. She doesn’t want Joel to get suspicious. Tommy directs her to what he calls the recycling center.

It turns out the recycling center is code for trying to turn scavenged stuff into stuff they actually need. She plays the innocent, curious kid card and talks her way behind the counter.

When no one’s looking, she crouches and sneaks into the back room, where all the scavenged chemicals and ingredients sit on neat, battered shelves. It takes five minutes to find what she needs, then she’s out the window.

\--

She’s about to chicken out, but her hand shakes a little too hard and some of the lye spills out of the container and onto her arm anyway. The pain is instantaneous, and she bites her cheek hard enough to draw blood, trying to swallow a scream.

“ _Fuuuuuck_ fuck fuck holy shitting fucking fuck—” she hisses, a steady stream of cusses to help her through the pain. She tries to remember the scene from the movie. How long does she have to leave it, for it to scar over? Her hand shakes hard as she puts the lye down, trying to gauge if the powder is fully covering the bite and the cysts.

She grips the edge of the sink with her hand, knuckles white, her forearm burning, screaming, searing. How long? She tries to start counting seconds, but she can’t keep track.

“Fuck it, long enough,” she decides, tears squeezing from her eyes. She fumbles for the vinegar—why did she put it all the way down there on the floor?!—and thumbs the cap off, struggling in the too-big rubber glove. Clumsy, left-handed, she pours half the bottle over her arm.

Just like the movie, the relief knocks her to the ground. She gingerly clutches her arm to her chest, her body shaking, heart pounding.

“Holy fucking shit,” she mumbles. “That was probably the dumbest thing I have ever done.”

\--

This time the bandage is actually covering a fresh wound, if anyone asks. The downside is she’s already been wearing it a long time.

Probably other people are suspicious, too, but Dina’s the one who’s ballsy enough to just ask her.

“Are you hiding a like creepy mutant third arm under that or what?” She raises her eyebrow. She uses that look a lot. Ellie can’t put her finger on what kind of look it is, but it feels like being a bug under a magnifying glass.

“It’s just taking a while to heal,” Ellie says, defensive.

Dina scoots over closer to her on the bench. “What even is it? Lemme see.”

Good thing she dealt with the bite when she did. “Fine,” Ellie sighs. She peels the bandage back carefully, wincing when the gauze tugs on the wet center of the wound.

“Whoa, that’s gnarly,” Dina says, holding the gauze away and gripping Ellie’s arm. She peers at it closely, curious. “What did that?”

Ellie wants to brag—standing there giving herself a chemical burn like Tyler Durden is probably one of the more badass things she’s ever done—but she knows she needs to lie. “We were in this gross building where the floors were all collapsing down and shit, and something dripped on me. It must’ve been acid or something because it was only a few drops but it burned like a motherfucker.”

Dina nods and moves back, letting go. “I think Cat got a burn like that too. Sounds painful.”

Ellie looks at Dina, curious. “Do you have any scars?”

Dina smirks, mysteriously. “Yes.” Then she gets up and walks away.

\--

Almost like it was scripted, Cat shifts onto Ellie’s farm rotation the next week. Cat has long bangs that fall in slashes around her face. When Ellie walks over to say hi, Cat gives her a look that makes Ellie’s cheeks feel warm.

“Hey, Ellie.”

“Um, hi. We haven’t really met.”

Cat wrinkles her nose when she smiles. “That’s true. I’m Cat.”

“I know.” Ellie opens her mouth and closes it. “Anyway, I thought I’d, like, say hi.”

“How do you like Jackson so far?” Cat asks, pulling her work gloves off. Her arms are covered in black drawings. When Ellie doesn’t answer, Cat looks down at her arms, too. “Yeah, kind of a weird hobby, I guess.”

Ellie raises a hand and then pauses. “Can I—touch—?”

Cat laughs. “Sure. They’re just marker.”

Ellie touches her arm lightly, tracing the petals of a flower. “They look really cool.”

“I really want a tattoo gun so I can do it for real,” Cat says, very openly. “Jesse said he can probably find me one on patrol once he starts.”

“Man, I wish I got to go on patrol,” Ellie says. “I’d find you one for sure.”

When she looks up, Cat is already looking at her, right in the eyes. “I bet you would,” she says, with this sneaky little smile.

Ellie clears her throat. “How do you decide what to draw?” she asks. She’s still touching Cat’s arm. She traces another line with her fingertip.

“I just draw what feels right,” Cat says.

Ellie realizes something. “How come you can draw on both arms? I can’t even draw a stick figure left-handed.”

“I’m ambidextrous.” Her smile turns smug.

“Oh.” Ellie pulls her hand back and fiddles with her fingers. “That’s cool.” She hesitates, “Well, I should get back to…”

“Yeah. Me too.”

\--

One night, Ellie is up late drawing a deer out of her comic book, practicing shading and listening to music. Joel interrupts her to be awkward for a few minutes, then brings out a guitar.

“Promise me that you won’t laugh,” he warns.

Ellie feels a little guilty. Maybe she’s too hard on him. “I won’t laugh.” He looks skeptical. “I won’t!”

He plays a song she’s never heard before, but it’s pretty good. Ellie has to admit, there’s something a little bit magical about the guitar. Maybe Joel was right. She thinks it would maybe be cool to be able to do that. Once he’s gone, she holds the guitar in her lap, wondering what it would feel like to conjure that magic feeling herself.

He also had a pretty good joke to share. Ellie adds it to the margin of her puns book before she goes to sleep.

\--

One day, in the shower, Ellie checks and finds the chemical burn is looking pretty ready for prime time. Only a few spots are still glistening, and the rest looks ready for some fresh air.

It feels great to walk around outside with her arm free, after hiding it under sleeves or wraps for over a year. The scar is bubbly and ugly, but less ugly than the bite mark, that’s for sure.

Nobody else really says anything about it all day, so she’s almost forgotten by the time Joel knocks on her door to watch her mangle some guitar chords.

Joel is pissed. Typical.

That pisses Ellie off too. “What, did you want me to just wear long sleeves for the rest of my life? You’re the one who told me I had to hide it.”

“Just what the hell did you do to yourself anyway?” he growls, gripping her arm to look at it.

Ellie tries to pull away, but his grip is strong. “None of your business.” He glares. “I did it with lye. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Lye?” he lets go, confused. “Who even taught you that?”

“It was in a movie,” she mumbles, rubbing her arm. “It was easy.”

Joel rolls his eyes and rubs his hands over his face. “Lord have mercy,” he grumbles.

“Whatever, it was worth it to quit lying about it. Somebody was gonna ask what was under that bandage someday, Joel.”

Joel hedges. “Well, what’s done is done. But you have got to be more careful. You could’ve really hurt yourself doing that. Did you do it alone?”

“Of course,” Ellie says, a little insulted. “You said nobody else should see it. I just did it by myself. It only took a minute. I had vinegar right there. Vinegar neutralizes the lye.”

Joel stares at her. Finally, he lets out a big sigh. “I swear, girl, you are too smart for your own damn good sometimes.”

Ellie twists her fingers together, leaning on top of the guitar. “Are you gonna do a lesson today or not?”

He sighs again, just to make it clear how totally exasperated he is by her creatively solving a problem on her own. “Sure, kiddo.”


	2. Sketches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of things to come.

“Wow, you’re really into this stuff, aren’t you?” asks Dina, looking around Ellie’s space curiously. It kind of feels like she’s looking through Ellie’s underwear drawer.

“What do you mean?” she asks, defensively.

Dina raises her eyebrow and points—at the posters, the box of comic books.

Ellie shrugs. “I like that stuff.”

“That’s all I’m saying,” Dina says.

Ellie isn’t sure what to say, so she just shrugs again. Dina goes back to her inspection, running her fingers along Ellie’s desk. Then her hand goes to Ellie’s journal, left in the corner. “What’s this?”

“Oh, don’t, that’s just—”

“Wow, these are really good.” Before Ellie can even reach her, Dina has the book open. When Ellie gets there, she sees it at least opened to a drawing and not an actual entry.

Ellie grabs the book out of Dina’s hands and snaps it shut. “Thanks,” she says, face hot.

“No need to be so shy.” Dina smirks at her and steps into Ellie’s space. “I was being serious. They’re really good.”

Ellie freezes. “I’m not shy, you’re just being all nosy in my private shit.”

Dina stares for a moment, then snorts. “Private shit.”

“You know what I mean!”

\--

Ellie’s next rotation is stable duty, which is possibly even worse than farming. She likes brushing the horses, but most of her time is spent mucking out stalls with Jesse.

“Has Dina said anything to you about me?” he asks her.

Ellie shakes horse shit off her shoe. She might need to get her hands on a second pair, now that her sneakers smell like the stable. “What, like, ever?”

“No, like _about_ me,” he insists.

Ellie pauses a second and frowns at him. “Why, do you like her or something?”

He looks to the side and back, then smiles and shrugs. “I dunno, maybe.”

“Huh.” Ellie looks down and sinks her pitchfork into the hay. “Well, beats me. Ask her yourself.”

Jesse laughs. “You’re no help. Guess I’ll have to.”

Ellie fumbles for something else to say. “Fucking hate the stables. This shit sucks.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to start group patrols next week.”

“Me neither. Wait—next week?”

“Yeah.” Jesse smiles at her.

Ellie stares. “What the fuck? How come they’re letting you do it and not me?”

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t old enough?”

“Well how the fuck old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

Fuck.

Ellie throws hay into the wheelbarrow. “Such bullshit,” she mutters.

“Actually, that’s horse shit.”

“Fuck off.”

\--

After she complains to Joel about hating stable duty, he surprises her with a camping trip outside the walls. She knows he’s up to something, but she isn’t sure what until he pushes her in the lake.

When she’s starting to feel comfortable staying afloat on her own, she climbs onto the beach to take a break.

“I feel like jeans aren’t the ideal swimming outfit,” she snarks.

Joel actually seems sympathetic on that one. “Yeah, before, you used to have a swimsuit, so it’d dry faster.”

“Huh. Really?”

“Yeah. It was this kind of special fabric that dries out quick in the sun. Plus it’s not as heavy as denim.”

Ellie lies back on the rocks. “Feels weird I never knew that.”

“Yeah… I feel like it should’ve been in some movie we’ve watched.”

Ellie takes some deep breaths to slow down her pulse. Her arms have that achy feeling that means she’s gonna be seriously sore tomorrow. “Hey, you knew that, though. So why are you making me swim in 500-pound jeans?”

“Gotta practice how you play,” he says, one of those nonsense Joel-isms. When Ellie doesn’t answer, he clarifies, “More than likely you’re gonna be wearing jeans and a backpack when you have to swim. No sense training any other way.”

Ellie sits up and glares at him. “Are you telling me I have to do this shit with a backpack on next?”

Joel smirks. “You guessed it!”

\--

Cat’s room is probably the coolest space Ellie has seen in Jackson. She has these colored curtains over the windows, so the whole room is lit in deep red and fuchsia, like a spaceship lit by red dashboard lights. Her walls are covered in paintings and drawings, and one wall is actually painted with this huge sick mural that she signed at the bottom.

“Whoa, your room is so cool!” Ellie marvels, stepping closer to the mural.

“Thanks,” Cat says, standing to the side. “That took me like two months. But one of those months was just waiting for some better colors to get scavenged.”

Ellie touches the wall carefully, tracing the outline of a dramatic mountain. “You should check out some of my comic books. They have great art.”

“I’d like that.”

Ellie looks over. Cat’s eyes glimmer.

\--

Ellie wakes up to a rhythmic knock on her door. “One second!” She fumbles into the sweatshirt she dumped on the bed and opens the door.

“Good morning!” Dina is there, grinning. “Get your backpack!”

Ellie rubs her face. “What are we doing? Don’t you have work today?”

“I wanna go exploring. C’mon!”

Ellie leaves the door open for Dina to enter and goes to grab her bag. “What do I need? Where are we going?”

“Just bring your gun. We’re gonna go check out this spot I heard about.”

Ellie throws her journal, her pistol, and a few rounds in her backpack. She grabs her switchblade off the shelf and tucks it in her pocket. “What spot?”

\--

The spot is supposedly an old campground, with a cluster of log cabins being slowly overtaken by new growth. Dina assures Ellie it was cleared out recently by the patrol she heard it from, but Ellie keeps her pistol out just in case, until they’ve checked all the buildings for infected.

They end up in a bigger building with big long tables and several rooms. “Okay, I think you can put the gun down, Rambo.”

Ellie blows Dina a raspberry, clicks the safety on, and tucks the gun into her waistband. Dina goes for the storage cubbies against the wall.

Ellie walks farther in, toward a low countertop between the tables and a kitchen. There’s a basket on the countertop full of ketchup and salt packets. “What exactly was this place for again?”

“It was a campground,” Dina says. “Steve said people used to send their kids to camp over the summer to get them out of the way while school wasn’t going on.”

Ellie snorts. “Imagine.” She digs her hands in the basket to feel the packets slide around like little plastic fish. “Did you ever have to go to school?”

“Not that I remember. We moved around too much. Did you?”

Ellie ditches the basket and vaults over the countertop. “Yeah. Miltary school. Kind of sucked.” She thinks of Riley and clenches her jaw. “Had some good moments, though.”

“Jackpot.”

Ellie turns around. Dina lifts a plastic bin full of what looks like paper.

“Some jackpot,” Ellie complains, but she walks back to Dina anyway.

“You of all people should be excited about art stuff.” Dina’s eyebrow is up again.

Ellie sighs. “I guess I deserve that.”

Dina puts the stack of paper on the table and fans it out. The stack has seven or eight different colors, and lots of pages in each color. The bin has some yellowed tape and colored pencils, too.

“What are you supposed to do with this?” Ellie asks, holding up a blue-tinted piece of paper. The paper feels thicker than the pages in her journal.

Dina holds a sheet up and considers it. “Actually, I think I know,” she says, and digs in the bin for a pair of scissors.

Ellie watches her warily until she hears water. She looks up and sees raindrops starting to splatter the windows. “Rain,” she says, stupidly.

Dina snorts. “Yeah, I have ears, doofus.” She lines up two pages on top of each other and starts cutting.

Ellie fiddles with her fingers for a minute, then sits down across the table from Dina. “What are you making?” she asks, after a few minutes of listening to the rain pick up.

“Shh, it’s a surprise,” Dina says, her attention totally focused on the paper.

For another few minutes, it’s just them, the sound of paper being cut, and the rain falling steadily on the roof. Ellie almost asks Dina if she likes Jesse, but something stops her.

Ellie sets her backpack on the bench next to her and stealthily pulls her journal out. Dina either doesn’t notice or doesn’t comment when Ellie quietly flips it open on the table and starts to draw. Ellie spends a lot of time on the eyes, practicing, trying to get them right.

“There,” Dina says. Ellie looks up right as Dina is standing, leaning over the table, and putting something on Ellie’s head.

“What—”

Dina picks up the other papers and pushes them so they pop out, into the shape of a crown. She puts it on her head and gives Ellie a flowery bow.

Ellie laughs. “Cool,” she says, touching the paper on her head and feeling the points of the crown.

“Yeah, you don’t even need tape, you just make this notch to hold it together,” Dina says. “My sister showed me.”

“Thanks,” Ellie says. “I guess the paper isn’t that dumb after all.”

Dina sits down again and tilts her head, eyeing Ellie’s paper. “What’re you drawing?”

Ellie shuts the journal on her drawing of Dina. “Just messing around.”

\--

They end up running home through the rain. The crowns basically melt on their heads, but it doesn’t really seem to matter.

\--

Cat catches up to Ellie on the street on her way home from the market. “What’re you doing now?” she asks.

Ellie blinks, startled. “Um, nothing. Just going home to eat… grilled cheese, looks like.”

“Want to hang out?”

“Sure.”

“Awesome. Take me home.”

\--

For the first time literally ever, somebody actually lets Ellie talk them into reading a comic book.

Cat actually asks: “So where’re these awesome art books you advertised?”

Ellie digs out the first issue of Savage Starlight—easily the series with the strongest first issue—and hands it over, eager. Cat smiles and immediately drapes herself over Ellie’s couch to start reading. Ellie follows her awkwardly and sits on her hands on the coffee table, waiting.

When Cat finishes, she smirks at Ellie and sits up, suddenly sitting really close to Ellie’s face.

“What’d you think?” Ellie asks. She feels a little nervous with Cat so close. Ellie can actually smell her, a nice, kind of earthy scent she can’t place. It feels a little like the good moment with Riley in the mall, the moment when they were dancing, right before Ellie kissed her.

“It was alright. What I really want to see”—Cat tilts her head and looks at Ellie so deeply it’s a little scary—“is _your_ art.”

Ellie licks her lips and says, “What do you mean?”

Cat leans back on her hands, which gives Ellie a second to breathe. “You said you can’t draw left-handed, which means you _can_ draw right-handed. Can I see?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I mean, I’m not as good at it as—”

“C’mon, I want to see! I bet you’re really good.”

Ellie chews her lip… and then relents. She feels shaky all over, crossing her room to her backpack. She pulls the journal out and starts flipping through, looking for one of her better drawings, one she spent some time on so she won’t look like an idiot.

As she’s flipping, the hairs on her neck stand up and suddenly Cat is right over her shoulder, so close her breath tickles Ellie’s shoulder.

“Wow,” she breathes. Time stops.

Then Cat takes the journal from Ellie’s hands, looking at the drawing of the deer from the night Joel brought her the guitar.

She steps aside to look.

“Ellie, this is really good.”

Ellie’s cheeks flame. Then, she lets herself smile.

\--

“Do you like Jesse?” Ellie asks Dina while they work the dishwashing line at the diner after family meal night.

Dina snorts. “Why?”

Ellie stares at her giant yellow rubber gloves, submerged in the soapy water. “No reason.”

“Did he say something to you?”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “I feel like that’s a ‘yes.’”

“I don’t know,” Dina says. Ellie turns, but Dina’s facing away. “Maybe, I guess.”

Figures. Ellie goes back to scrubbing the next dish.

“Do you like anyone?”

Ellie tilts her face away.

“Psh. No.”

\--

Ellie thinks about skipping movie night, but Jesse shows up at her door to drag her over there, so she ends up agreeing. When they get there, Jesse ditches her right away to sit next to Dina on one of the couches. A bunch of the other kids are already there, so Ellie sits on the floor, her back leaning against the couch. When she’s starting to think it’ll just be her, Cat shows up, late enough to make an entrance, and then plants herself directly next to Ellie on the floor.

“Hey,” Cat says, conspiratorially. She smiles at Ellie, her hair blocking out the other people in the room. Their shoulders are almost touching; her face is so close.

“Hi,” Ellie says, feeling somehow like she swallowed her tongue.

The whole movie, Cat’s elbow bumps Ellie’s, or her shoulder does, or her knee.

The next day, Joel asks how the movie was, and Ellie can barely tell him the title.

\--

Ellie’s leaning on the nightstand by her door, tying her Converse, when someone knocks.

“One sec, Joel,” she calls through the door.

“It’s me, dummy,” comes Dina’s voice.

Ellie turns the handle and pulls the door open, foot still up on the nightstand, shoe half-tied. “What’s up?”

Dina rolls her eyes. “Umm, happy birthday?”

“Oh!” Ellie’s mouth drops open. “Um, thanks. I didn’t know anybody knew.”

“I’m an intel master,” Dina explains with mock sincerity. “I got you a present! Wanna see?”

Ellie stands up straight, shoelaces swinging. “Yeah! What is it?”

Dina brings her hand out from behind her back. She’s holding a colored paper crown with carefully cut tips, decorated with tiny jewels in different colors.

“Whoa!” Ellie takes it from her, careful not to bend or tear the paper. She sets it carefully on her head. “Thanks! Did you get this from that camp?”

“Yeah, snuck back out to get it, too.” Dina smiles, smug, her body tilting slightly forward, toward Ellie.

“Well, that was nice of you.” Ellie smiles back, lopsided. “How do I look?”

Dina laughs. “King of the nerds.”

“Shut up. You love it.”

Dina’s smile softens at the edges. “Yeah, yeah.” She flips her ponytail, looking away. “Well, have fun on your camping thing or whatever,” she says.

“Thanks. And thanks for my present.”

Dina ducks her head. “Yeah. Happy birthday.” And then she’s gone.

\--

At the last second, Ellie grabs her guitar to bring along on the camping trip. She braces herself for Joel to make a crack about her not exactly packing light, but for once he doesn’t say anything about it, just smiles.

They don’t talk much on the way to the stables or the ride out of town. But, weirdly, once they’re outside Jackson, the silence doesn’t feel so heavy or weird. It feels kind of like before.

\--

Ellie never thought she’d see a real-ass dinosaur. This has gotta be the best day of her life so far. Not that there’s a ton of competition. She does kind of wish Riley were here to see it, though. She would’ve appreciated it.

\--

Joel talks a lot about Sarah, now. Ellie doesn’t care—she knows they’re not, like, competing, or something; Sarah’s dead—but it’s weird to hear him share stuff so openly. It’s almost like they switched places. Ellie used to be more open like that, before half her life got tangled up in a big dangerous secret she’s not allowed to tell anyone about.

\--

Ellie wishes she hadn’t dragged Joel to the second building where the dead Firefly did do-it-yourself therapy all over the walls. At least it sounds like maybe it wasn’t all bad that Ellie didn’t get to talk to them herself before she woke up in the backseat of a truck speeding out of town. But it makes Joel quiet the rest of the day, which sucks.

He always goes quiet when the Fireflies come up. It feels like another secret.

\--

“Feels like we haven’t seen Dina or Jesse in weeks,” Ellie complains to Cat, lying on Cat’s bed with her legs flat against the wall.

Cat sits with her arm braced on her knee, drawing. “Of course we haven’t. Didn’t you hear they’re dating now?”

Ellie blinks and tries to process that. “Seriously?”

Cat glances at her. “Yeah. Jesse asked her out, like, a week ago.”

“Oh.” Ellie taps her fingers against her stomach. “What, so they drop off the face of the earth?”

Cat laughs. “Apparently.”

“They can be, like, dating or whatever, and still hang out with their friends. This is just… anti-social is what it is.”

Cat snorts. “Whatever. Even if they were hanging out with us, they’d probably just be being all gross anyway.”

That gives Ellie pause. She imagines the four of them hanging out, Dina hanging on Jesse the whole time. Her face pinches. “Gross.”

“It was inevitable,” Cat says, flipping her pencil to erase something. “They’ve been, like, circling each other for months.”

Ellie sighs, annoyed. She’s not sure why she’s annoyed, but she really, really is.

“You don’t seem as annoyed as I am,” she accuses, looking at Cat. Cat’s eyebrows are pushed together, focusing on her work. There’s a pencil smudge on her chin, where she keeps touching it.

Cat shrugs. “Why be annoyed? We’re not kids anymore. People are gonna date people.”

Ellie sighs again. “Never mind.” She twists and props herself up on her elbow. “What’re you working on?”

“Oh. Um.” Cat tips the page and Ellie freezes. It’s Ellie. On the page. Cat’s drawn her face and hair and neck, and was sketching out the shapes for Ellie’s torso and hands.

“Wow.” Ellie swallows, unsure what to say. Cat doesn’t save her, either, just sitting still, letting Ellie look. “Um, nobody ever drew me, before,” Ellie mumbles.

When she looks up, she just catches Cat’s eye before Cat looks away and tilts the page back. Cat licks her lip and scratches her neck. “People—drawing people is hard. You were staying really still, so I thought I’d practice.”

Ellie flops heavily back on her back. She’s not sure what to do with that information. It feels like the air got thicker, like when it’s really humid in the summer, but without the heat.

They’re quiet for a minute, trapped in that thick air, like mosquitoes frozen in amber.

Ellie squeezes her ring finger. “What tattoo are you gonna do first, when Jesse finds you an ink gun?”

“I’m not really sure.” Cat’s pulled her knees up in front of her. She taps her pencil against the page. Her cheeks look pink. “Um, I feel like it’d be smart to do something small, first. It’s not gonna be the same as a marker. But it’s hard not to get excited about the bigger pieces I wanna do.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Ellie glances at Cat again. “It’s hard to wait for the big stuff.”

\--

Ellie thinks she’s getting pretty decent with the guitar. She remembers all the chords to “Future Days” now, and Joel’s given her a few more songs to work on. Her hands are starting to look different, her calluses migrating from all her time with the guitar and her journal. Plus, when she’s playing guitar, she can’t see the ugly crater on her arm.

It didn’t used to bother her that much, especially compared to the gross teeth marks and shit, but lately looking at it makes her feel kind of sad. For a while, she thought that bite mark was gonna save the world—she was gonna save the world. Be a hero, cooler than any dinosaur or astronaut. No dice. She guesses that stuff is for kids, really, anyway.

She tilts the guitar flat on her lap and runs her hands across it. It feels glossy, smooth. A little magical. Her fingers rub the strings and an unguided, low sound echoes through the body. It gives her a little shiver. In another life, maybe she could’ve been a rock star instead. Been special that way. The only way she’s been special in this life is by almost dying and then instead watching Riley die.

Ellie touches the paint on the neck of the guitar, a fading white moth. On impulse, she reaches behind her and pulls her journal over, balancing it carefully on the body of the guitar. She sketches the moth carefully, copying the shape and lines, then compares them.

“Not bad.” She draws over the outer lines, making them darker and darker. Before she realizes it, she’s cut the moth’s wings with firm angles, covered it with a Firefly symbol.

She stares at the image a long time, then throws the journal and pen on the desk behind her. Sets the guitar back in place. Runs through her chords again.

\--

“Haven’t seen _you_ in a while,” Dina says, like it’s Ellie’s fault. She comes up right beside her in the stables, where Ellie’s brushing one of the colts.

“Like that’s my fault,” Ellie scoffs. “Having fun with Jesse?”

Dina smirks, not bothered. “Don’t be jealous.”

Ellie snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I’m _not_ jealous, trust me.”

“Alright, you don’t dig Jesse,” Dina says, laughing. “How come you never like anyone? Or is it just a secret between you and your diary?”

Ellie’s ears burn, but she keeps her face normal. “How come you worry so much about me liking somebody? You’ve asked me that, like, so many times.”

“You’re just so mysterious.” Dina leans closer and stares into Ellie’s eyes, searching them. For a second it feels like she’s actually going to dredge up some deep secret that way. “I just wanna know what’s going on in that head.”

Ellie forces a laugh. Hopefully a nonchalant one. “Yeah. I’ll bet.”

\--

That night, while Ellie’s practicing chords, her door opens with no knock. She startles, but realizes it’s Dina before she goes lunging for her knife or anything. “Jesus, you fucking scared me,” she says, her voice cracking.

Dina looks at her, triumphant, a little devilish, like she’s uncovered something incredible. “So that’s what you do all by yourself at night,” Dina says.

“Fuck you,” Ellie bats back, weakly. Her fingers twitch against the guitar. Caught.

Dina shuts the door and sits cross-legged on the coffee table in front of Ellie. “Play me something.”

Ellie grips the guitar neck. “No way. I just barely started learning.”

“It didn’t sound that _barely_ from outside,” Dina says.

Ellie rolls her eyes. “How long were you standing out there like a creepy weirdo?”

Dina rolls her eyes. “I mean, not _that_ long, but I could hear you playing and it didn’t suck. C’mon, play me something.”

Ellie wants to say no, to refuse, but there’s something magnetic about Dina sitting right there, looking at her with that quiet smile, her eyes glittering. Ellie breathes it in—a big breath, for courage—and looks down at her hands, carefully positioning her fingers on the strings.

“I only know one song,” she mutters.

“Okay,” Dina says, super quiet. Like she’s scared to snap Ellie out of it.

“Promise you won’t laugh,” Ellie says, looking Dina in the eye.

Dina looks right back at her. Serious. “I promise.” Ellie watches her lips form the words.

With a deep breath, Ellie starts to play the only song she knows all the way through.

\--

When Ellie shows up at Cat’s house, Cat’s mom gives her this weird smile and points her upstairs to Cat’s room. It’s the third time it’s happened, now.

“Your mom keeps smiling at me so weird,” she announces when she walks into Cat’s room.

Cat looks up and pulls her earbuds out. “What?”

“Your mom,” Ellie repeats, coming up to lean against Cat’s desk, arms crossed. “She keeps smiling at me all weird when I come over.”

Cat pushes her chair back and holds her pencil between two fingertips. The drawings on her arm are faded gray, after a long week out in the sun. “Weird like how?”

“I dunno.” Ellie hops up on the desk and kicks her foot against the drawers. “Like, smug. Like she knows something I don’t know, or something.”

“Hmm.” Cat scoots back to the desk and goes back to her sketchbook. “That is weird.”

Ellie laughs. “Um, sorry, did I interrupt your super important top secret side job or something? What are you working on today?”

“Um… actually it’s kind of for you. Or, you inspired it.”

Ellie bites her lips, suddenly feeling shy, or nervous. She looks over at the page.

“I saw it in your sketches the other day,” Cat says quietly. “I thought it was pretty.”

It’s a full-page, full-detail version of Ellie’s moth. After the first one, it’s sort of become her default warm-up, clusters of them filling the margins around other entries and doodles. As usual, Cat’s version is much better than Ellie’s, dramatic and breathtaking and ready to fly off the page, except it’d be the size of a bird.

“Holy shit, Cat.” Ellie touches the page, careful to avoid smudging anything. “This looks so fucking cool.”

“Thanks.” Cat smiles all the way, her nose and eyes crinkling a little. “I was kinda nervous to show you. I wasn’t, like, creeping on your journal or anything.”

“I know.” Ellie didn’t know, but it’s nice to have that confirmed. It’s the one big downside of sharing her drawings with Cat: the high risk Cat will also see the words. “This looks so sick. How long have you been working on this?”

Cat pulls one foot up onto the chair and leans on her knee. “Like a week, I guess. I’m almost happy with it.”

“It’s detailed, for a pencil sketch. What were you gonna do with it?”

“Mostly just show you. I thought…” Cat trails off, frowning.

Ellie shoves her hands under her thighs, flat against the desk. She smiles, cool, casual. “Cat, it’s me. What?”

“Well. Your arm.” Cat pushes her own sleeves up farther and holds her arms out between them. “I mean, I don’t know if you never noticed or if you were just being nice, but like, I do this because they look way nicer than the scars under them.”

Ellie never noticed, but Cat does have a lot of scars on her arms. Most of them are small, easily camouflaged by the ink. There’s one round burn mark on her bicep, one long, rough line around her elbow.

“I get it,” Ellie says. “I don’t like how mine looks, either.” She frees her hand from under her leg and twists so her burn faces up. “At least yours are pretty small. Mine’s, like, a fucking moon crater.”

Cat smiles. “Yeah, I was thinking… I dunno, if you felt the same way about yours, like, if you’re like me, maybe you’d want to cover it up, someday.”

Ellie catches on. “Like when you get your tattoo gun?”

Cat nods.

Ellie considers the scar, pale and pockmarked in the sunlight. She adjusts so she can hold it next to Cat’s huge moth drawing, trying to imagine the image on her arm, the dramatic shadows, the reaching wings.

Just as Cat opens her mouth, Ellie murmurs, “Yeah. Yeah, I think that would maybe be cool.”


	3. Mosquitoes in Amber

“Where were you yesterday? I tried to find you after work,” Dina says, coming up to Ellie at dinner.

“I went over to Cat’s,” Ellie says, loading food on her plate. “What’d you need?”

“I just wanted to see you. I miss you.” Dina makes an exaggerated pout and Ellie scoffs.

“You miss me.”

“I miss you!”

Ellie raises an eyebrow. No way she’s missing Ellie when she’s spending her nights in Jesse’s arms, making out or… whatever they do.

“Let’s hang out tonight,” Dina says, smiling at her.

“Alright, let’s hang out tonight,” Ellie says, shrugging. Odds of it actually happening feel low. At least, until Dina follows her to a table.

\--

Ellie ends up trailing Dina home after dinner. The cold air has that bite to it that comes before snow. Their breaths make frosty clouds in front of them.

“What’s Jesse doing tonight?” Ellie asks, after almost asking three times during dinner, but stopping herself.

Dina shrugs and frowns, just for a second. “I don’t know. We _do_ do things without each other.”

Ellie puts her hands up and smirks. “Whoa there. I touch a nerve?”

“Whatever.”

“Sounds like a nerve to me.”

“That’s just you getting on my nerves.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Dina gives Ellie a glare as she unlocks the door and lets them both in. “I’m still me, you know. I’m not, like, a fucking Jesse barnacle or something.”

Ellie shuts the door behind them and puts her hands in her pockets. “Uh huh.”

Dina sheds her coat and vest. “I do my own thing. I don’t just, like, go wherever he goes, do whatever he does.”

Ellie wanders over to Dina’s bed and sits down at the end of it. “It sounds to me,” she says with a fake serious accent, “like somebody gave you a bit of shit about it today.”

Dina glares and smirks at the same time. “Yeah, maybe.” She crosses the room and instead of sitting at the other end of the bed, against the headboard, she sits in the middle, right by Ellie.

Ellie plays off a shiver by flopping onto her back, putting her hands behind her head. “It was Cat, wasn’t it?”

“No.” Dina’s lips twitch to the side. “Steve. Not everybody spends all their free time with _Ca-at_.” She pushes Ellie’s knee with her hand.

“Psh.” Ellie waves her off. “You _work_ with Steve. All your free time is spent on _Jes-se_.”

“What do you and Cat even have in common?” Dina asks. There’s an edge in her voice. “She’s so quiet.”

Ellie bites her lip and adjusts her arms so Dina can’t see her whole face. She decides to ignore it. “Actually, once you get to join patrols, all your work time is also gonna be spent on _Jes-se_.”

Dina’s suddenly on top of her, a knee on either side of Ellie’s hips. “Shut the fuck up,” she says, digging her fingers in Ellie’s ribs to tickle her.

“Hey, no fair!” Ellie squeaks, slapping at Dina’s hands, trying to flip her over. Her foot finally finds the bed frame and she rolls them. Ellie ends up hovering over Dina, their legs overlapping.

Dina’s eyes jump from Ellie’s eyes to her mouth. “I don’t know if things are gonna work out with Jesse,” Dina says, her voice pinched.

Ellie feels like she should move away, but it also feels like retreating would make it weird. “Why not?”

For a moment, Ellie’s voice seems to hang in the air, like a guitar string still vibrating after the note is done. They’re frozen in space. Mosquitos in amber.

“I don’t know,” Dina says. Ellie sees her swallow. “Sometimes it just doesn’t feel right.”

Ellie wants to ask what that means, but she loses her nerve and pushes off to the side. “That sucks,” Ellie says, lamely.

She feels, rather than sees, Dina sit up behind her. It feels like Dina’s looking at her, but Ellie looks at the toes of her shoes, resolute.

“Yeah, it does.”

\--

At the market, Ellie runs into Jesse. Or, he runs into her.

“Ellie! Long time no see,” he says with a smile.

“Yeah, hey.” Ellie ties a knot in the twine around her firewood bundle. She tries not to sound too jealous when she asks, “How’s being a bigshot patrol leader?”

“I don’t know about bigshot,” he says, kindly, “but patrol sure is a lot better than picking up horse shit, huh?”

“I can only imagine.”

Jesse falls in step next to her and nudges her with his elbow. “Hoping some of my actual friends get to join me soon.”

Ellie tries not to look overly eager. “Is that, uh, actually in the works?”

“Well, time marches on,” he says with a shrug. “Dina’s supposed to be able to start pretty soon.”

“Oh, that’ll be nice,” Ellie says, trying not to sound too sarcastic.

“Well…” Jesse rubs his neck. “Probably more awkward than nice.”

Ellie frowns at him. “Huh?”

Jesse looks at her like she’s stupid. “We broke up.”

Ellie blinks. “You what?”

“Yeah, like four days ago. You didn’t hear?”

Ellie doesn’t answer in time.

“Here I thought we lived in a small town,” he jokes. “Anyway, I gotta jet. Come hang out sometime, huh? I don’t see you enough.”

He turns away at the intersection. Ellie yells after him, “Get me on patrol and you can see me all the fucking time!”

He waves her off over his shoulder.

Seth glares at her from down the aisle. Ellie turns away and heads home.

\--

“This time, _I_ have dish for _you_ ,” Ellie tells Cat after her usual awkward interaction with Cat’s mom.

Cat swivels in her chair and smiles. “Lay it on me.”

“Jesse and Dina broke up.”

Cat stares for a second, then rolls her eyes and laughs. “I think your dish sat out too long and got cold,” she teases.

Ellie throws her hands up. “What are you talking about? Jesse just fucking told me like twelve hours ago.”

Cat shakes her head and gives Ellie this infuriating pitying look. “Teenage hormones stop for no man,” she quips.

Ellie stares, then walks to the bed and dramatically drops face-first across it. She tilts her head so she can talk: “Are you telling me they’re already back together?”

“Honestly I’d be surprised if this was the first time they’ve even broken up.”

Ellie lays there a second trying to process _that_ until she feels Cat sit down next to her. Ellie twists over so she can see. “That is…” Ellie fumbles for words. “Really stupid.”

Cat laughs through her nose. She looks down at Ellie through her bangs. Her eyes look pretty in the red light from the curtains. “Why do you care so much?”

Ellie bites the inside of her cheek. “I mean, there’s only like eight teenagers in the whole town,” Ellie points out. “So it kind of has an impact on our, like, social pool.”

“Are you sure you don’t like Jesse or something?” Cat asks.

Ellie frowns. Cat’s face is a little too expressionless, her eyes too focused.

Ellie forces a laugh. “Um, obviously not. Why would you think that?”

“Just because you’re so worried about the ups and downs of their relationship… thing.” Cat gestures vaguely.

Ellie shakes her head and laughs for real, trying to imagine herself liking Jesse. “Yeah, no. Jesse is not my type.”

It’s too late when she realizes she sprung a trap. Cat pulls her knee up and turns more toward Ellie, who tries to casually not look at her.

“Really?” Cat says. “What is your type, then?”

Ellie runs through a few options in her head at warp speed—lie? Refuse to answer? Answer honestly?—and settles on a last resort option, which is to flee.

“Shit, I forgot, I have to go,” she says, launching off the bed.

She can feel how skeptically Cat looks at her while she busies herself with her backpack.

“You have to go. Right now.”

Ellie turns to her, shrugs, and smiles. For some reason, she doesn’t bother pretending it isn’t an evasion tactic. “Just came by to give you the big non-news. Gotta go do my guitar lesson with Joel.”

Ellie’s gone before Cat can respond.

\--

After the conversation with Cat, Ellie decides to be less weird about Dina and Jesse. She still knocks really loud on Dina’s door when she stops by, though.

“Come in!”

Ellie opens the door slowly and finds Dina on her own, messing with the dumbbells by the corner. She smiles when she sees Ellie. “Hey! What’re you doing here?” She sets the weights down.

“Just saying hi,” Ellie says, hooking her thumbs in her backpack straps. “Heard you and Jesse got back together.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Dina rolls her eyes. She grabs a towel to wipe her face off. Her shirt is wet at the throat and underarms, even though the room isn’t warm.

Ellie forces her eyes over to the rest of the room. “You sound thrilled,” she says drily, taking in the few extra decorations Dina’s put up recently. There’s a pretty woven tapestry thing hung over what used to be a barren wall. Some candles on the dresser.

“It’s fine. It was a stupid fight anyway. You want to work out?”

Ellie takes a few steps toward her and shakes her head. “No, thanks.”

“Chickenshit.” Dina grins at her, mischievous.

Ellie gives her a look and drops her backpack by the table. “Don’t even. You know I can take you.”

Dina’s eyebrows shoot up. “Do tell,” she says, almost a purr.

Oops. Ignore it. “What are you thinking? Pull-ups?” Ellie eyes the bar bolted to the wall. She’s been doing pull-ups on the monkey bars when she goes on runs after dark.

“I mean, now I feel like I should pick something else,” Dina jokes, but she moves out from under the bar.

Ellie drops her coat on top of her bag and walks over, rolling her wrists to loosen them up. “I heard you get to join patrols soon,” Ellie says, hopping up and catching the bar lightly.

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

Dina sounds excited, but Ellie’s focused on pulling her body up without smashing her face into the ceiling. “Jesus, could you have put this any closer to the roof?”

“Hey, I have limited vertical real estate,” Dina shoots back.

“More like you’re limited, vertically.”

“Shut up, you’re like two inches taller than me.”

Ellie feels her arms starting to warm at rep six. At the top, she adjusts her grip to buy a little break. “I’m sure you’ll grow some more if you just water yourself and get more sunshine.”

“Fuck you.” There’s a pause. Ellie can feel Dina’s eyes on her—or maybe it’s just her muscles, complaining. “Okay, okay, how many of those are you gonna do?”

Ellie grins, counting _ten_ in her head, not stopping. “See, Dina, you don’t have to have a fancy ass gym setup in your house to work out. Some of us build muscle in the _real_ world.”

“Ha-ha. By real world I assume you mean the kids’ playground.”

“Laugh all you want after you beat my high score. Should I keep going?”

“You just want me to tell you to stop so you don’t have to admit you’re tired.”

Ellie smirks. “Sounds like I should keep going.” She takes a second to enjoy the feel of her muscles stretching and contracting. Dina’s quiet, behind her. Maybe Dina’s enjoying this, too?

No. Stupid.

“Twenty.” Ellie drops smoothly and turns, arms crossed.

Dina stares, her expression unreadable. “Is that all you got?” she asks. There’s that edge in her voice.

“Thought I’d give you a chance to catch up. Plus, I mean, I could do these all night. Didn’t want to bore you.”

A smile tugs at Dina’s glare, trying to surface. “I’ll bet.”

The silence stretches a little too long. Dina bites her lip, just barely visible. It feels like time is suspended, again. Like the air’s too thick.

Ellie drops her eyes and grabs the towel Dina’s holding. “Are you gonna try and beat me or are you giving up already?”

Dina just shakes her head and goes to the sink for water. “I think I’ll pass, show-off.” Then she seems to remember something and brightens back up. “Plus, I have to save energy for _patrol_ tomorrow,” she gloats, grinning like an asshole over her cup.

Ellie bites her cheek hard to tamp down her instinct, which is to basically throw a temper tantrum. “Man, I am so fucking jealous,” she says, earnest.

Dina softens a little and leans against the counter. “Yeah, but you should start soon, right?”

“I think I have to wait a couple more months. I don’t know for sure.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll come before you know it,” Dina says, reassuring.

Ellie laughs without humor. “Joel’s been saying that shit since like the day we got here.”

“Yeah, well.” Dina shrugs. “You’re a lot closer than you were then.”

Ellie shakes her head. “Never close enough.”

\--

It turns out this wasn’t the best time to make an effort with Jesse and Dina, who spend almost all of dinner leaning on each other and talking shop about patrol. Ellie doesn’t usually love eating with the group anyway, when she could cook herself something at home and listen to music, and the whole thing kind of feels like she made the wrong choice and got punished.

She must do a bad job of hiding her jealousy because eventually Jesse says, all patronizing, “Don’t worry, I bet you’ll get to start soon.”

“Not holding my breath.”

\--

Ellie pulls one earbud out and rewinds the tape in her Walkman. The tape is new, a surprise from Cat. It’s cool to hear new music that didn’t come from Joel. It’s like a secret, but a fun one.

With the cord dangling, Ellie reaches over and grabs her guitar, lifting it awkwardly over the arm of the couch and setting it up in her lap. She listens to the song start up again and slides her finger down the fret, strumming to find the matching note. When she finds it, she rewinds and does it again, matching three notes in a row on a guess.

“It can’t be that easy,” she mutters to herself, marveling. She rewinds again.

\--

“You must really like that tape I found you,” Cat says later in the week, when their rotations line up in the prep line at the diner.

“Huh?” It comes out more defensive than Ellie wanted.

Cat laughs. “It never takes you this long to pass the Walkman back.”

“Oh. I’ve just been busy,” Ellie mumbles. In truth, she’s been listening to it for four nights in a row, reverse-engineering the chords so she can play the first song herself.

Cat leans closer, conspiratorial. “It’s a good one, right?”

“Yeah. I…” On a whim, Ellie decides to confess. “I was trying to learn to play it. The first song.”

“Like on the guitar?”

Ellie nods, keeping her eyes on the carrot she’s peeling.

“That’s so cool!” Cat whispers, stepping closer.

Ellie glances at her and bites down on a smile.

“You have to show me,” Cat says, her voice low. “Please?”

Ellie opens her mouth to say no, but instead, she says, “Okay. Once I learn it.”

\--

One morning, Ellie heads out for work and it’s warm out, instead of cold.

Ellie grabs Cat after work. “Hey, can we hang out?”

“Sure.” Cat smiles at her, easy, her skin and hair glowing warm in the sun. “What do you wanna do?”

Ellie shifts her backpack on her shoulders. “I thought maybe we could walk out to the lake. It’s really nice out.”

Cat looks interested, but a little nervous. “The lake outside the wall?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s still in the safe zone,” Ellie says, confused. “It’ll be fine.”

Cat starts to say something; stops; starts again. “You sure?”

“Totally.” Ellie can’t tell what the problem is, but she can tell Cat wants to get past it. “I mean, it’s so safe I didn’t even lie to Joel about where we’re going. And I have my pistol just in case.” Her hand goes to the handle, tucked in her waistband.

That seems to work. Cat gives her another of those mysterious smiles and says, “Okay.”

\--

The walk to the lake is nice. It feels good to get outside the walls a little, and Ellie likes the feeling of really using her body, doing something other than aimless circuits around Jackson, doing bullshit calisthenics on a kids’ playground. With her pistol and backpack, she can almost pretend she’s already on patrol.

As the path bottoms out at the bowl of the lake, Ellie slows to a stop. Cat catches up and stands next to her, close, looking at the lake. “It’s pretty,” Cat whispers.

“Yeah.” It is. Sunlight ripples on the water; birds fly across in the distance. It feels calm. Ellie rubs her face and steps away, toward the water’s edge. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“I’m glad I came. Thanks for inviting me.”

They sit down on the grass and Ellie slips her backpack off, and her sweatshirt. She touches the handle of her pistol, then decides to leave it on her for now. She stares off at the water, soaking in the quiet, the outdoor smell of leaves and earth. For a second, she wishes she brought her guitar with, before realizing that’s insane since she also brought Cat.

“I actually wanted to show you something anyway,” Cat says, pulling her sketchbook from her bag. She turns to a page and hands it to Ellie.

It’s a drawing of a snake, the head a little bigger than the body, fangs bared. “Damn, this is awesome,” Ellie says, bending to look more closely.

“I think I might do this one first, if I ever get my hands on the equipment.”

Ellie glances up, touching the paper lightly. “Yeah?”

Cat nods. “It’s small enough to take the pressure off, but big enough to cover the one I really want to cover, you know?” She points to her upper right arm, where a pen drawing of a similar snake is fading.

Ellie looks at the drawing again: the flashing eyes, the scales. “It looks badass. How do you even do it on yourself on that spot?”

“I’m magic.”

“Explains a lot.”

Ellie admires the snake for another moment, then hands the book back. Cat turns a couple pages and hands it back, instead. Now Ellie’s looking at a new moth. The size is closer to her actual arm, and some of the details are changed or simplified.

“Um, not sure if you were still serious about it, but…” Cat trails off.

“It’s perfect,” Ellie says quietly. Cat waits while Ellie traces the pen lines with her finger. No pencil rubs off. “You drew it in ink?”

Cat scoots closer next to her, looking at the picture, too. “I mean, I want to get good at drawing it, if I’m gonna put it on you forever,” she says.

Forever. That packs a punch. Ellie feels that little electric current under her skin, that thrill. The moment suddenly feels really intimate, even though they’re sitting half a foot apart, not touching.

“It, um, looks really good.”

“Thanks. I’m still thinking…”

She hears Cat inhale. Cat reaches out and touches Ellie’s arm, turning it upward. Ellie feels her pulse jump.

“… It might need more. Like…” Cat draws her finger around the burn in the rough triangle shape of the moth. “Something to anchor it to your whole arm, so it’s not just a moth floating in nothing.”

Ellie’s mouth is dry. “Yeah. Um. What were you thinking?”

“Hmm, I dunno,” Cat hums. She traces her fingers up and out from the burn in an arc, up to Ellie’s wrist. “Maybe like a plant, curving out? I could wrap it around your arm. That always looks cool.”

She lingers, her fingertips soft on Ellie’s pulse point.

“Do you have a pen?” Ellie’s voice croaks and she clears her throat.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Cat pulls away and digs in her bag. She comes back with a black marker. “This okay?”

Ellie keeps her eyes on the page, feeling almost afraid to look up, like it’ll break the spell. She closes her fist and holds her arm out toward Cat. “Try drawing it on me,” she asks, quietly. “Like you do on yours.”

Cat is still for a moment, then she swivels, sitting so she faces Ellie with her knee leaning on Ellie’s thigh. She rests Ellie’s arm firmly against her, then adjusts the sketchbook so the moth aligns with Ellie’s burn. Ellie wonders if Cat can feel her pulse, pushing urgently against her skin.

Cat bites the marker cap and pulls it off. Ellie stares resolutely at her arm and Cat’s hand. Gently, almost tenderly, Cat rests her hand against Ellie and touches the marker tip to her skin.

\--

“You’re right,” Ellie says when Cat is filling in the last black spaces on the moth. Her voice sounds scratchy, low. “Um, about the, like, white space.”

Cat flashes her a quick, apologetic smile. “That’s okay. Here.” She shades the last of the moth and shifts her grip and starts just fucking free-handing long, organic plant stems from each of the moth’s wings, up to Ellie’s wrist. She draws ribbed leaves on one stem, then starts coloring in feathery, dark leaves on the other.

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you just making this up as you go?” Ellie asks, in awe.

Cat laughs a little. “I mean, I do spend, like, every waking moment drawing.”

“C’mon, take a little credit. That’s incredible.”

“So that’s the idea.” Cat pulls away and caps the marker. Ellie flexes her fingers and turns her arm over. “Obviously I’ll go way slower, for real. I’ll have to anyway. But the moth won’t be squished like that, and I’ll get all the leaves even.” She touches each mistake as she mentions it.

“You’re ridiculous,” Ellie says, laughing. “This is a fucking masterpiece. I love this.” She turns her arm back and forth. The black space of the moth covers most of the burn, and the leaves make it look like she has a tattoo just to have one, not as a hacky cover-up job.

“Really?”

“Really.” Ellie hops to her feet and draws her pistol, steadying it and sighting down the barrel, admiring the shimmer of the ink as her hand moves. “I can’t wait ‘til Jesse gets off his ass and finds you what you need.”

Cat snorts. “Yeah, still waiting on that.”

“Fuck it, I’ll just do it. I’m only like a month away from getting to go out.” Ellie tucks the gun back in her waistband and sees Cat looking up at her skeptically.

“You really want to go out on patrols?”

Ellie stares, confused. “Yeah, obviously.” She sits back down, leaving more distance between them than there was while Cat was drawing on her. “I’m sick of bouncing between the farm and the kitchen and the stable. It’s so fucking boring.”

“Hmm.” Cat spins the marker over her thumb. “Sometimes boring is nice,” she says, quietly.

Ellie props her knees up and rests her arms on them, still staring at Cat’s handiwork. “I guess. I don’t know. I get so antsy.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Cat says, knowingly.

Ellie peers at her. “You grew up outside Jackson, though. Don’t you get, like, restless here?”

Cat shrugs. “I feel like I lived all nine of my lives outside Jackson. I’m ready to just hang out and do what makes me happy.” Her hand goes to one of the scars on her arms. “I’m done with almost dying.”

Ellie stares for a second, then rubs her burn, absently. “Man, we are so different,” she says, and then laughs, self-conscious.

“Are we?” asks Cat, curious.

Ellie shakes her head in disbelief. “Yeah. I guess that’s not a bad thing, though. Who else is gonna find you a tattoo gun?” She grins at Cat. “Not fucking Jesse, I’ll tell you that.”

\--

Ellie’s not sure why, but she wears her sweatshirt over the drawing when she goes to dinner. Cat always eats with her mom anyway, and Ellie kind of likes having a secret from Jesse and Dina, for now. She’s also a little suspicious they might try to talk her out of it if she told them about the plan.

“You guys want to sneak out to the lake after dinner?” asks Chad, one of Jesse and Dina’s older patrol friends.

“Fuck yeah.” Dina grins, ribs Jesse, then looks expectantly at Ellie.

Ellie bites her lip. “Uh, I’m gonna pass, actually.”

“Boo.”

“Why?” Dina looks almost mad.

“I don’t feel like it,” she says, noncommittal. “And I went to the lake this afternoon anyway. I don’t wanna hike out there twice.”

Chad and Jesse have tuned out, but Dina narrows her eyes. Maybe eager, maybe annoyed. “Oh really? Who’d you sneak off to the lake with?”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t even like that. We’re not even allowed to go alone.”

“It was Cat, wasn’t it?”

There’s something in Dina’s expression that Ellie doesn’t recognize. It feels a little ominous.

Ellie mumbles an excuse and leaves.

\--

At home, Ellie pauses for a long time in front of the bathroom mirror, which she usually avoids. With her sleeves pushed up, and the shadows in the room, the ink on her arm almost looks real. It looks strangely grown-up.

She drags her attention up to her face, which looks basically the same as always. Not especially grown up. Her hair is getting really long, too, tickling her neck, but cutting it would mean making a conscious decision about how she wants it to look.

Ellie pulls her ponytail out and ties her hair back again, slower. She pauses mid-stream, her hair pulled only halfway through the elastic, held in a knot instead of a tail.

She holds it there, peering at the version of herself in the mirror, her inked arm, her bare neck.

Maybe.

\--

Ellie falls asleep tracing the leaves on her arm.

She dreams they’re still by the lake, but in summer, lying in the sun to dry, when Cat is suddenly on top of her. Their bare legs and bellies slide together and Cat presses her mouth to Ellie’s, hot and firm. Ellie tries to hold her, but her right arm is rooted to the ground.

Cat drags a hand down her body, leaving a trail of heat, and dips her head to Ellie’s ear.

Fingers curl around her waistband, but it’s Dina’s voice that whispers, _Can I ask you a question?_

Ellie wakes in deep-night darkness, blankets twisted around her, her shorts damp in a way that makes her face burn. She splashes water on her face at the sink and stares at her shadowy outline in the mirror. “It isn’t safe, I’m infected,” she mutters, frustrated, willing her body to get the message. The shadow doesn’t move.

\--

The next week, Joel comes by for one of their infrequent guitar lessons and hovers by the door instead of walking in. “What’s up?” Ellie asks.

“Got some news from up the pipe,” he says, in that slow, deliberate way he talks when he has news Ellie’s going to like.

She sets the guitar aside, eager. “What is it?”

“Now, you gotta promise me you’re gonna be careful,” he starts, hands already up to slow Ellie down.

Ellie hops to her feet. “I get to go on patrol, don’t I?” she guesses, too excited to wait.

He raises an eyebrow and continues. “—and you’re gonna be smart…”

“Yes!” She pumps a fist in the air. “I definitely get to go on patrol. That’s what you’re gonna say, right?”

“ _Group_ patrol,” he corrects. “For _training_. With supervision.”

“Yesssss!” Ellie punches the air. “About fucking time!”

“Now, settle down,” Joel says, chuckling, “it’s subject to an evaluation before you can move on. An evaluation that includes attitude and teamwork. Think you can handle that?”

“Psh.” Ellie drops onto the chair, arms wide. “Easy.”

Joel chuckles some more. “Alright. Well, congratulations, kiddo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidentally making myself like Cat too, here. Don't worry, Cat won't stay the focus forever. The mix tape Cat found is someone's recording of the radio playing during the week of 2/9/1985, if you want to start guessing what song Ellie is working on.


	4. I've Traveled So Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrol, guitar, whiskey, longing.

There’s a moment between when Ellie wakes up and when she packs her bag where she suddenly wonders, what if she sucks at patrol? She’s been penned up inside the wall for most of the time she’s been in Jackson, and even though she’s had her moonlighting regimen to keep her stamina up, there isn’t any ammunition to spare on target practice.

The fear passes when she picks up her pistol. The movement still feels natural, the weapon an extension of her arm, the weight familiar in her hand. She tucks it in her waistband, packs up her bag and switchblade, and jogs to the meetup near the gate.

\--

Turns out group patrol is kind of like patrol for babies, but Ellie remembers what Joel said about it being an evaluation and puts on her sunniest, cheeriest, most I-don’t-give-a-fuck-if-I-have-to-wear-a-clown-suit-as-long-as-I-can-hold-a-gun smile the whole time. They don’t set one foot outside the safe zone, listening to Steve wax philosophical about vigilance and preparedness and shit, nary an infected in sight.

Dina makes faces at Ellie every time Steve says something inane, but Ellie rolls her eyes and looks politely back at Steve, every time.

\--

After the session, Dina hooks her arm in Ellie’s and leads her down the road, the opposite direction from Ellie’s place.

“Where are we going?” Ellie asks mildly.

“Are you really going to act like none of that just happened?” Dina asks, giggling. “That was the most serious I think I’ve ever seen you. And Steve was really going way out there, too. Did you get body-snatched or something?”

“I’m not gonna fuck it up for myself by being an asshole. This is way too important to me.”

Dina peers at her, curious. “Damn, alright, Serious Ellie.”

Ellie jostles the arm Dina’s holding. “Don’t be a dick. Joel said group patrol is, like, an evaluation. If I don’t do a good job, I won’t move on. And then I’ll be marooned in Manure and Potatoes Land for the rest of my fucking life.”

“Well,” Dina says, seriously, “at least it wouldn’t be a very long life. ‘Cause you’d blow your fucking brains out.”

“Well. There’s that.”

“You know Jesse gives the evaluations, right?” Dina squeezes Ellie’s arm. “It’s not like he’d actually fail you.”

Ellie snorts. “You think Joel is gonna just read the write-up and call it good? Like he’s not gonna fuckin’ interrogate everyone in our whole group about how I did and what I did?”

Dina seems to consider that. “It’s not like he’s actually out to get you or anything. You really think he’d keep you from moving on?”

“Maybe. If he can find a good reason.”

“Doesn’t he know it’s important to you? He obviously cares about you. And he has to know you can handle yourself out there.”

Ellie shrugs. Sometimes it’s hard to tell, with Joel. “I think it’s more that he doesn’t want me to be in danger at all. Even if nothing is actually gonna happen to me.”

“Hmm.” Dina leans in, cups her hand over Ellie’s ear, and whispers, “If that’s the problem, you’re pretty much screwed.”

\--

They end up sitting on the storage bins behind the Tipsy Bison. “You have to play for me again sometime,” Dina is pushing, knocking their knees together, when Jesse turns up.

“What’re you guys up to?” he asks, slumping into the wheelbarrow like it’s a beanbag chair.

“I was just asking Ellie to bring her guitar to the bonfire next week.”

Ellie glares. “More like threatening.”

Jesse looks interested. “You totally should! What can you play?”

“I was _trying_ to explain I’m not really at audience level yet.” Ellie stuffs her hands under her thighs.

“Psh. I heard you play before. You’re really good.”

“Whatever.”

Jesse kicks his legs. “What kind of music do you play?”

Ellie shrugs. “I mean, I only know a few songs. Not even a whole ‘kind’ of music.”

Dina scoffs again. “You think you’re so fucking cool, with your, like, broody artist thing.”

Ellie glares, shifting her hands behind her to lean on them. “I don’t brood.”

“You hide at home alone with your guitar every night. How is that not brooding?”

“I don’t do that—every night,” Ellie protests weakly.

Dina grins at her, her look a little eager, her eyes sharp. “Ha. Told you.”

“Fuck off.”

“I win. That means you have to bring the guitar.”

Ellie sets her jaw. “We’ll see.”

\--

Instead of patrolling in circles in the safe zone listening to Steve drone on and on, they transition to combat drills with the group under Jesse’s guidance.

Being supervised and graded by a peer grates about as much as Ellie expected, but she channels the frustration into the drills, practicing chokeholds and drawing her index finger across her sparring partners’ throats, over and over.

At one point, she ends up paired with Dina. “I’m gonna be a clicker,” Dina says, flashing this feral smile right before she lunges.

The leap is more powerful than Ellie expects, and she’s forced to hold Dina off with her hands, instead of sweeping into a headlock. She grits her teeth while Dina makes an eerie imitation of clicker squawking. She can feel Jesse coming down the line and feels a surge of anger at the thought of getting scolded because Dina decided to be an asshole.

In an instinctive gamble, Ellie lets one arm go lax, so Dina falls under her own weight toward Ellie’s left side. Ellie lets Dina’s momentum do the work and swings around behind her, looping her arms around Dina’s shoulders and pressing her palms firmly on the back of Dina’s neck, trapping her with her arms sticking out.

“What the fuck,” Dina complains, just as Jesse gets to them.

“Interesting,” says Jesse in his bigshot patrol leader voice, slowing down.

Ellie tosses a cocky grin over her shoulder and jabs her finger lightly into Dina’s neck. “Do I still get the points?”

“Where’d you learn that?” Jesse asks, pausing with his arms crossed. For as much as Ellie hates having a friend for a boss, at least he never actually acts patronizing or condescending. He sounds sincerely interested.

“Um, can you let me out?” Dina asks, squirming. When Ellie releases her, Dina steps forward and avoids her eyes, her face flushed. Ellie tugs her sweatshirt so it lays flat again.

Jesse smirks at Dina, then turns to Ellie and says, “Nice work. Just remember real clickers are gonna be a lot feistier than Dina.” He shoves Dina’s shoulder a little, joking.

Ellie can’t resist rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I have seen a clicker before, Dad.”

“Most of us have, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing left to learn,” he says mildly.

Jesse moves on to the next pair and Ellie rolls her eyes again at Dina.

Dina doesn’t respond; she keeps her eyes on the ground and re-zips her jacket.

\--

“Come in!” Ellie calls, focusing on transitioning her fingers between chords.

It’s Cat who comes in, wearing her Cat smile and a plush hooded vest. “Heya, stranger.”

“Oh, hey,” Ellie says, smiling at her. “Sorry, I’m really trying to get this down before the bonfire…”

Cat swings the door shut and puts her hands in her pockets, taking slow steps over to the bed. “Is that the song from the tape?” she asks after Ellie plays a couple of chords.

Ellie glances up and wets her lips. “Um, yeah. The first one.”

Cat sinks onto the bed and pulls her legs up too, sitting cross-legged, her hands resting lightly on her knees. “Are you gonna play at the bonfire?” She sounds surprised.

Ellie looks up again and lets a sigh out through her teeth. “Yeah,” she admits. “I mean, I think. Dina was kind of giving me a lot of shit about it.”

“About the bonfire or about guitar?” Cat smiles knowingly.

Ellie weighs it for a moment. “I’m not really sure,” she says, uneasy. She releases the guitar neck and folds her arms over its body. “She was just being a dick about, like, how I don’t hang out with everyone, or whatever.”

“Oh. Well.” Cat snorts. “We can’t all be people-people like Dina.”

Ellie snorts, too. “Right?” She rubs the glossy wood with her finger. “She said I was too, like, broody, bleeding-heart artist, or something.”

“She’s probably just jealous.” Ellie looks up and Cat shrugs, then smiles. “I mean, the broody thing works for you. I don’t think she could pull it off.”

Suddenly Ellie feels really, really warm. Her cheeks burn.

“Thanks, I think,” she mumbles, twisting her fingers together, the guitar against her body like a shield.

Cat slides one leg off the edge of the bed, leaning back on her hands. “Maybe you should practice for me. You did promise.”

Ellie swallows hard. “I did promise.” She looks slowly down at the guitar, watching her hands settle it back in her lap, take position on the strings. “But if you laugh, I’m never playing around you ever again.”

“I’d never laugh at you,” Cat says, and when Ellie looks up, Cat looks deadly serious. There’s something dark in her expression; somber, deep.

Ellie points her gaze back at her hands and strums the first chords. It sounds just like when she practices, and she feels the magic start to weave in the air around her, lending her a dose of courage.

“ _I gotta take a little time…_ ”

\--

As the last note fades, Ellie bites her lip and tucks her arm on top of the guitar, not sure what to do with her body now that the magic is dissipating. She risks a glance at Cat for the first time since she started, and for once she can’t read Cat at all.

“Wow,” Cat breathes. “That was really, really good.” She raises her hand for a moment, like she’s going to reach for Ellie, but then it stalls and drops to the bed.

“Um, thanks,” Ellie says, awkwardly. “It’s still, like, a work in progress, type of thing.”

Cat shakes her head. “I thought that was amazing.”

Ellie folds her arms on top of the guitar and rests her chin on them. “It’s kind of weird to hear it with just guitar. The original is so, like, peppy—”

“Ellie. Shush.” Ellie checks Cat’s face again, feeling nervous. Cat’s smiling at her now. “I like your broody version better anyway. What was it you told me at the lake? Take a little credit.”

Ellie manages a lopsided smile. “Okay.” She sits back a little, touching the back edge of the guitar. “I wish I had a different song I could play at the thing. This one is so…”

“Intimate?”

Ellie meets her eyes again, cautious. Cat’s eyes are deeper and darker, glittering in the dim light. The air feels thick again, like before a storm. Like something’s about to happen.

“Yeah,” Ellie blurts, a little too loud. “But, um, I don’t really know any other ones all the way through, except ‘Future Days,’ and I’m kind of tired of that right now.”

Cat laughs a little and scratches her ear. “Yeah. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

\--

Ellie hasn’t actually carried her guitar out of the house in a long time—maybe since her camping trip with Joel, almost a year ago. When they do sit down to play together, less frequently now, it’s always in her little apartment, so her guitar doesn’t even make the trek across the yard. So, it feels a little strange to sling the guitar over her back, to feel its press across her shoulders, hollow and powerful.

She pulls her sweatshirt hood out from under it and heads out to the bonfire pit before she can talk herself out of it.

Unfortunately, the walk itself gives her ample opportunity to talk herself out of it, especially when she feels people eyeing her as she passes. By the time she gets to the pit, her steps slow to a stop, ten or so feet outside the gate. She twists her fingers together in her sweatshirt pocket, hesitating—waiting.

“Hey, nerd,” comes Dina’s voice, preceding Dina, who bounces up beside her. “Nice backpack.”

“Shut up. I only even brought it because of you.”

“I have a very serious question for you,” Dina says, putting on a serious expression that is obviously fake.

Ellie glares, annoyed. “What.”

“On a scale of one to ten…”

“What.”

“With ten being, like, one hundred percent, absolute certainty…”

“What, Dina.”

“…how close were you to chickening out just now?”

Ellie rolls her eyes as pointedly as she can. “Dina, I’m fuckin’ here, aren’t I? I brought the guitar. What do you want from me?”

Dina giggles and loops their arms together. “Alright, let’s go, chicken. Jesse should be there with the booze by now.”

Sure enough, past the gate and down the path to the pit, Jesse is there with a couple gallon jugs of what has to be alcohol, joking around with the usual group. Chad and Andre are nursing a fire to life. Lingering at the edge is Cat, smirking quietly at whatever they’re saying.

“Woo! Bonfire!” shouts Dina, dropping Ellie’s arm and wading into the crowd to get the drink Jesse’s pouring her. Ellie follows at a distance, hands still in her pouch pocket. Cat walks up to her holding two cups of whatever lighter fluid Jesse scrounged up for the group to get drunk off of.

“Hey,” Cat says, smiling, like she’s already guessed what went down with Dina.

“Hey,” Ellie grumbles. She accepts the cup from Cat and immediately takes a drink to help swallow down the urge to flee.

Cat watches her, eyes flickering, even though the fire is behind her. “Already regretting this?” she asks, sympathetic.

“Only a lot.” Ellie tries to smile back. “To be fair, I usually regret coming to these things, regardless.”

“You’re telling me.” Cat eyes the group, mostly guys except for them, Dina, and Candice. She turns back to Ellie and touches her arm lightly. “I wasn’t gonna miss you performing, though.”

Ellie gives a choked laugh. “Please don’t call it a performance. I might actually die.”

Cat laughs and taps their cups together. “I think you better start drinking, El.”

Ellie grimaces and takes another big sip.

\--

Ellie manages to surreptitiously set the guitar down behind a log, and after a little while, when darkness falls and the fire kicks up, she starts to think she might not even have to play, after all.

Then her dumb drunk ass gets caught staring at Dina, and unlike Cat, who catches Ellie all the time and just smiles and looks away, Dina takes it as an invitation to flounce over and plop down next to her.

“Hey,” Dina breathes, her face close, clearly drunk herself. Time seems to flex for a moment, Ellie trapped, pinned by Dina’s eyes. Distantly, she feels some inner urge try to present itself, then stamps it out.

“Hey,” Ellie says back.

Dina grins. “You’re super drunk.”

“Am not.” At least, she’s not as drunk as she could be.

“You’re so cute when you’re drunk.”

Ellie blinks. What do you say to that?

“You think I forgot, don’t you?” Dina looks at her with pity.

Ellie rubs the rim of her cup with her thumb. “Forgot?”

Dina reaches down and runs her fingers along the guitar—caresses it, really, slower and more languid than she has any reason to be. Her voice is low, intimate. “You promised me you were gonna play.” She pulls one of the strings and a loud, low note comes out, reverberating, filling the air.

The note summons the world back in: Jesse, yelling, “Hell yes, entertainment! Ellie! Play us something!”

“I hate you,” Ellie says, quiet.

“You love me.” Dina grins.

\--

Ellie still isn’t sure how you’re supposed to finish a song. Hers just peters out, her eyes glued to the ground, afraid to see how people react. She can feel everyone’s eyes on her, attention on her, like a too-close sun in the height of summer.

“That was awesome!” Jesse cheers, the first to clap. The rest of the group claps too, some more than others. Ellie chances a look at Dina, who looks smug, self-satisfied, as she crosses the pit to sit next to Jesse.

Confused, Ellie looks over to Cat, who looks at her like she did the last time Ellie played this song—but unfathomably _more_ , her gaze magnetic and bottomless, even from the far side of the fire. Something about that look drops Ellie’s throat into the base of her belly, warm and coiled and waiting.

As the group’s attention fades, Cat uncoils from her seat, walking up to Ellie like a hunter approaching a fallen stag. Ellie is frozen, rooted, her fingers still pressed against the frets of the final chord; Cat seems to shimmer in the firelight, gilded by the whiskey.

She sits next to Ellie, close, so close that Ellie can feel Cat’s body heat escaping through the knit of her sweater. Or maybe that’s the whiskey, too.

“Ellie.”

Dimly, Ellie registers a general sense of danger. _It isn’t safe._

Cat smiles at her, so normal it’s almost jarring. “You didn’t spontaneously combust.” When Ellie just stares, mouth part open, Cat adds more quietly, “I thought it was really good.”

Ellie forcibly relaxes her hands, one finger at a time.

“You have such a pretty voice.”

Cat’s eyes jump across her face, from her eyes to her mouth and back.

Ellie clears her throat and looks away. “Thanks.”

Across the fire, Dina yells, “Ellie, Cat, you playing or what?”

Spell broken.

_It isn’t safe._

\--

Ellie stares at the ceiling a long time that night, after the bonfire.

Was Riley her first _and_ last kiss?

Her whole life, future, eclipsed in one night?

It doesn’t feel fair.


	5. To Change This Lonely Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buried treasure.

Jesse meets Ellie on her way out to group patrol. “Change of plans today, we’re meeting at the stables,” he says.

Ellie pushes her sleeves up. It’s getting warm out. “Shouldn’t you be telling Dina this instead of me?”

“I told her last night.”

“Oh.” Of course.

“Gave you good marks on your first month eval,” Jesse offers as they walk.

Ellie perks up. “How many months of evals do I need before I can start for real?”

Jesse shrugs. “That’s not really up to me, unfortunately.”

“Dina said she’s getting put up for paired patrols in a couple weeks.”

“Yeah.”

Jesse doesn’t explain more, and something in the silence tells Ellie what’s really going on.

“It’s Joel, isn’t it.”

Ahead of her, Jesse shrugs. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just write my reports and keep my head down.”

Ellie sighs and makes a mental note to talk to Joel later.

“What are we doing at the stables?” she asks as they wave to Alex at the stable checkpoint.

“You’re about to find out.”

\--

“Today, we’re going on a supply run,” Jesse explains as Amara matches people with horses. Ellie is placed with Shimmer, a sweet young mare memorable for the unholy stench of her manure. “We aren’t going far from the wall, but we might encounter some infected, so everyone be alert and be smart.”

“What supplies are we getting?” Chad asks from down the row.

Jesse consults his list, as if he doesn’t remember it by heart. Always by the book. “Clothing, shoes, and any meds or chemicals we come across, as always. There’s also a request here for electronics, so, uh, keep your eyes peeled. This mall has been on our radar for a while, but Joel and Tommy only just found an easy route inside, so we’re hoping it’s not totally picked over yet.”

Dina’s hand waves near Shimmer’s reins to get Ellie’s attention. “A real mission,” she whispers, eyes gleaming.

Ellie smiles and nods.

\--

The group clears a pile of rubble tangling up the chain for the loading dock door, then eases the door open without much trouble. The mall is a mess inside, like someone tried to use it as a stronghold when the outbreak first hit. Every door is barricaded.

They make slow progress through the stores, taking out scattered infected, then boxing and bagging useful goods and dragging them back down to the loading dock. In a big department store, after taking out a lone runner, Jesse hops up on a display table and rounds everyone up, talking quietly through his mask. “So, we’re almost at capacity for the horses today, so as a reward for you guys’ hard work today, take a look around for anything you want to refresh your wardrobe. Just make sure whatever you pick can fit in your backpack. Otherwise we’ll probably be back here tomorrow to keep bringing stuff back.”

Dina flashes Ellie a thumbs-up. She disappears into the dusty racks while Ellie wanders toward a wall display of button-up shirts in the back.

She finds a couple of decent options and a pair of boots to keep her feet from freezing in the snow next winter. She’s forcing the zipper of her bag shut when she notices a shadowed door labeled Employees Only.

A glance confirms the rest of the group is out of earshot. Ellie shoulders her bag, draws her switchblade, and slowly turns the door handle. The door offers some resistance, but not more than her body weight, so Ellie presses firmly and slides in against the right-hand wall, turning so her mask doesn’t get caught. As her bag slips past the door, there’s a dull _thud_ : the block of lockers tipping forward off the door and settling back on its feet.

As it does, and the door clicks shut, Ellie hears a slight sound, a shift in the air. The beam of her flashlight catches spores, a dark room, and then suddenly a clicker, screeching and scrabbling for her. Ellie struggles a moment, holding it away with her hand on its collarbone, then ducks a hand around its flailing arms and buries her blade to the hilt in the side of its neck, twice. She side-steps as the clicker falls, banging the hollow lockers.

“Ellie?” she hears, as the door cracks open an inch. She sees Dina’s hair poking up behind the mask.

“In here.”

Dina slides in between lockers and wall, stepping over the body. “Fuck, Ellie. You just ran in here alone?”

Ellie gives the clicker one last look. “It was fine. I took it out, didn’t I?”

Dina shakes her head, but Ellie’s already moving on, aiming her light around the room. There’s another set of beat-up lockers against the wall, fungus webbed across the gap, choking the plaster. Faded posters and hand-written signs cover a corkboard next to another door. The floor is dominated by a round table with four cheap plastic chairs, shoved or knocked over by the clicker at some point.

“Of course you would ditch the fun shopping part to get back to the almost getting murdered part,” Dina’s grumbling.

“What can I say? Shopping isn’t that fun.” Ellie walks over and tests the lockers. First two are unlocked, but empty. The third doesn’t seem to be locked, but the latch is jammed or rusted shut.

“I bet you’d change your tune if we were in a store full of comic books.”

Ellie braces the metal with her shoulder to try to pry the locker open. “Like I’d ever get that lucky.”

“Do you need help with that?”

“No.”

“If you say so.” Dina starts testing the doors of the lockers that were blocking the door.

The door Ellie’s wrestling finally gives way with a dry, rusty scream. The inside of the locker is covered in stickers, pictures, and papers. Near the vents, the decorations are faded and grimy with spores, but some of the ones in the far corners still look glossy and almost new. On one of the hooks, there’s a blue shirt with hand-cut short sleeves, soft to the touch. A black bag sits on the locker floor.

Ellie takes the shirt and holds it up. It looks roughly the right size.

“Find any treasures?”

“Maybe.” Ellie drops her bag to the ground and pulls the shirt on over the long-sleeve shirt she’s wearing.

“Cute. Very grunge.” Ellie glances at Dina, but with the masks, it’s hard to tell if she’s serious. Ellie decides to ignore it, and Dina stoops to take the black bag as Ellie puts her backpack back on her shoulders.

Dina sets the black bag on the rickety table. “What have we here? … Huh. What even is this?”

Ellie steps up beside her, their flashlight beams crossing. The bag is a kit bag, filled with small clear plastic sleeves for different implements. Ellie recognizes what looks like needles in several sizes and vials of ink.

“No way.”

She grabs the bag to pull it closer, pulling a metal tool out. Her light catches a pamphlet in the bottom of the bag: TATTOO HYGIENE & SAFETY.

“It’s a fucking tattoo gun,” she says, turning it over in her hands.

Dina picks up the pamphlet. “Really?”

“I think so. It’s not like I’ve seen one before.”

Dina flips through the pages briefly, then tosses the pamphlet back in the bag. “Huh. Lucky you, huh?”

Ellie packs the bag back up and zips it closed. “What are the odds, even?”

“Maybe I should say lucky for Cat. Do we need to look for wrapping paper now?”

Ellie puts her backpack on the table and starts repacking it to make space. “Wrapping paper?”

“You know, since this is obviously a present. For Cat.”

Ellie shakes her head and nests the bags, careful to crush the clothes and not the kit. “I never thought we’d find one of these.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, but you’re not saying anything.” Ellie puts her bag back on and taps her switchblade and pistol, making sure they’re still there. “You find anything good?”

Dina just shakes her head and starts pulling the lockers away from the door. “Little help?”

Ellie joins her and scoots between the wall and the lockers, using her legs to push.

“You really shouldn’t just dip into random rooms on your own without telling anyone,” Dina says as the lockers start to move. “It’s reckless.”

Ellie scoffs through her mask. “How come everybody is all excited to line up and tell me what I’m doing wrong lately?”

The lockers scoot loudly across the floor, far enough to give them access to pass. Dina puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head. “I just don’t want you to die doing something stupid. What if that was a bloater in here?”

Ellie’s teeth grind together. “Then it’d be a dead bloater.”

They stare at each other for a second, masks reflecting their flashlights, spores and dust motes drifting like snowflakes.

Dina shakes her head again. “You know you can be a badass without being—”

“Everything okay back here?” comes Jesse’s voice.

Ellie slips through the door.

\--

By the time they get back to Jackson with the supplies, Ellie’s back to feeling excited about her find. Fuck Joel and Dina both, thinking she doesn’t know what she’s doing. At least Cat doesn’t treat Ellie like a kid. And Ellie knows how psyched Cat will be.

At the stables, Ellie can tell Dina’s trying to catch her eye, so she slips around the outside of the building and heads straight for Cat’s house. The sun only got stronger while they were out, and Ellie can feel her shirt sticking to her back and underarms. Should she change clothes?

Before she can decide, she finds herself walking up the steps to Cat’s house. She can feel her pulse beating faster. Her knock sounds almost frenetic.

Cat’s mom answers the door with that smug smile of hers. “Hi, is Cat home?” Ellie asks, her voice a little breathy from the top-speed walk over.

“She should be home in a few minutes,” Cat’s mom says, opening the door. “Come on in.”

Ellie lingers in the foyer, sliding her hands under her backpack straps, her fingers twitching with energy. The house is cooler than outside, and Ellie regrets not stopping home to shower now that she feels how sweaty she got.

“Want something to drink?”

Ellie starts to say no, but self-preservation wins out. “Um, sure, if you don’t mind.”

Cat’s mom looks pleased at that and steps into the little kitchen. “You kids get off work early today?”

“A little, I guess. We only just got back a minute ago.”

Cat’s mom brings a glass of cool water. Ellie takes a sip that turns into gulping down half the glass.

“You’re on group patrols now, right?” Cat’s mom leans against the counter, interested.

Ellie clears her throat and wipes the water from her lips. “Um, I am, yeah.” She hesitates. “Couple of months now.”

“How do you like it?”

Ellie shifts her weight, trying to figure out the angle, or what Cat’s mom is getting at. Cat’s mom just looks at her, kind and sincere.

“I like it,” she says, testing the waters. When nothing happens, she adds, “I like getting out of town during the day. I really want to start doing real, paired patrols.”

Cat’s mom laces her fingers together. “You must be very brave.”

Again, Ellie hesitates. She can’t tell where the conversation is headed. “Thank you?” she says, the words tilting up at the end like a question.

“I mean, for wanting to go back out there,” Cat’s mom says, gesturing in the direction of the gate. “To leave the safe zone.”

“Oh.” Ellie turns the glass in her hands. “I don’t know if that’s that brave.”

At that moment, the door opens, and Cat gives her a smile. “Oh, hey, Ellie.”

“Hey!” Ellie says, a little overeager to escape. “I found something on patrol I wanna show you.”

“Oh, cool.” Cat exchanges a look with her mom. She takes the glass from Ellie, hands it to her mom, and takes Ellie’s hand to head upstairs.

“—Thanks for the water!” Ellie adds as they leave.

\--

In Cat’s room, Cat drops Ellie’s hand and puts her bag on the floor. “So what’s the big surprise?”

Ellie wipes her sweaty hands on her shirt and crouches next to her backpack. “You’ll never guess.”

Cat laughs. “So don’t make me guess, just show me.”

Ellie stands up, the kit bag in her hands. She wets her lip. “This is for you.”

Cat’s laugh dies, reflecting Ellie’s serious expression. She takes the bag from Ellie and sets it on the desk. “What is it?” she asks as she slowly tugs the zipper open.

“Oh—oh my god. Oh my _god_. Ellie!”

Cat all but leaps into Ellie’s arms. She loops her arms around Ellie’s shoulders, her hair tickling Ellie’s face, her laugh warm in Ellie’s ear. Ellie’s hands fall to Cat’s waist, steadying her as Ellie stumbles back.

“I can’t believe you found one,” she’s saying, “how the hell did you find one?” She pulls back a little and cups Ellie’s face in her hands. Her hands are warm and soft; Cat’s eyes look enormous with her face so close. It feels like they’re going to kiss.

“In the mall,” Ellie stammers. She grabs Cat’s wrists, intending to pull her away and insert space between them, but her body disobeys. Cat’s wrists feel small and light; a ridged scar presses against the inside of Ellie’s palm. “S-someone left it in a locker.”

Cat shakes her head at Ellie, still smiling. She bites her lip. Ellie takes a shallow breath.

Then Cat lets go and turns back to the kit bag. Ellie stands frozen for a moment, sucking air back into her empty lungs.

Cat shoves everything to the back of her desk and starts laying out each item in the kit. When she’s done, she sits with the pamphlet and another booklet Ellie didn’t notice before and peels the pages apart.

“Should I”—Ellie’s voice cracks and she clears her throat—“should I leave you two alone?”

“I’m just excited, I want to start setting it up,” Cat says, skimming the pamphlet eagerly. She spares Ellie a glance and an apologetic smile. “You can go home and shower if you want. I can tell you’re dying to.”

Ellie feels her cheeks flame. “Sorry I smell. I just didn’t—”

“Don’t be sorry.” Cat looks at her with that unreadable look. “You were excited to give it to me. You’re sweet.”

“Um. Thanks.” Ellie stuffs her hands in her back pockets.

“Maybe I can come by later and show you, once I get it working and test it out?”

Ellie bites down on a smile. “I’d like that.”

\--

On the walk home, then in the shower, Ellie decides she has to at least try to ask Joel what he knows. Maybe the Fireflies told him something while she was unconscious; maybe he knows if she’s contagious, if she’s a danger to other people. She wanted to talk to him about something else, anyway. What was it?—Patrol?

As she steps out of the shower, rubbing her hair dry, she hears a knock that freezes her blood cold. Cat, already? She yells “One second!” and tears around the corner, grabbing her dirty jeans off the floor and walking them on, then throwing a t-shirt on over her wet hair.

She barely remembers to zip her fly as she opens the door, only to see Dina, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

“Dina.”

She must look surprised, because Dina halfheartedly smirks and says, “Sorry to disappoint.”

“No, you’re—I—I was in the shower.”

“I can see that.” Dina looks her up and down, a little pointedly.

Ellie runs a hand through her hair self-consciously and starts tying it back, stepping out of Dina’s way to let her in. “What, uh, what’s up?”

Dina steps inside and crosses her arms. Unlike Ellie, she was smart enough to shower before running her errands; her hair is up in a neat, damp bun, her clothes changed since patrol. She smells good.

Ellie forces her eyes to the floor and crosses her arms over her chest, too.

“Look, I just—I felt bad, about earlier,” Dina says in a rush, like water overtaking a dam. “I didn’t mean to sound like a jerk. I was just trying to say that, like—”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too.” Ellie curls her shoulders in.

Dina sighs. “I didn’t mean to, like, step on your pride, I guess. I know you can handle yourself… I just meant—”

“Dina, it’s fine,” Ellie says. “I was just touchy about it.” She considers for a moment, then decides to be honest. “I’m worried Joel won’t let me move on to paired patrol.”

“Oh.” Dina visibly relaxes. She looks at Ellie, curious. “Why don’t you just talk to him about it?”

Ellie glances at the door. “I… Actually, I was thinking about it. I don’t know.”

Dina drops her arms. The silence sits, palpable, oppressive. Instead of slowing, time seems to spin out, running away without them.

“How excited was Cat about the tattoo gun?” she asks. The words are Dina, but her voice is tired instead of teasing.

Ellie looks at her and for a moment, their eyes lock; for a moment, Ellie wants to challenge her, to ask what it is about Cat that puts an edge in Dina’s voice.

Only for a moment.

“She was pretty excited.” The memory puts a smile on Ellie’s face, even in the tension of the room. “She’s setting it up now.”

“Without you?”

That edge. That flash in her eyes.

“I needed a shower.” Ellie glances at the sweaty shirts in a heap at the bathroom door. “I might’ve gotten carried away running there right after patrol.”

Dina laughs once, short. “I’ll bet. You stank by the time we got back.”

“Shut up. You didn’t smell that great yourself.”

“Maybe, but I didn’t have a hot date to run off to.”

Ellie’s cheeks burn again. “Not a date.”

Dina peers at her, hard. “You sure about that?”

Ellie stares, caught—then looks away. “There’s nothing going on with Cat. I’m not…” She’s not even sure what to say. Not allowed? Not safe? Ellie trails off.

Dina steps into her space—way too close. Their crossed arms bump together. Dina’s face swallows up her vision. Dina’s eyes search hers, then drop to her mouth, then skip up again. “You’re not?” Dina asks, voice quiet. She means something else. “Are you sure?”

Ellie struggles for something to say. Finally, she forces a laugh; looks away; steps back. “Dina…”

There’s a knock on the door.

Ellie turns toward it, avoiding looking at Dina. When she opens it, it still isn’t Cat; it’s Jesse.

“Hey,” he says, his voice warm. “You seen Dina?”

Ellie suppresses the urge to roll her eyes and opens the door wider, so they can see each other.

“Oh,” says Dina from inside. “Hey.”

“Yeah… hey.”

Sounds like they’re on the outs right now. Ellie’s hand twitches on the doorknob, trapped between them, a fly in a spiderweb.

Jesse rubs his neck. “Can we talk?”

Dina looks at Ellie, maybe guilty, maybe embarrassed. “Uh, sure,” she mutters.

Jesse turns to lead her away. As Dina passes, Ellie mutters, “Oh, you’re not? Are you sure?”

She expects a glare, but when Dina looks at her, she looks almost afraid.

\--

Ellie dresses for real and finds herself walking across the yard to do something she rarely does anymore: visit Joel.

When she reaches the porch door, her fist hovering over it, she hears music from inside. She knocks and the Joel who appears is happy and loose and smells faintly of whiskey.

“Tommy, look who’s here!” he calls, leading Ellie inside.

This isn’t what Ellie envisioned when she decided to come talk to him. She wanted to get some answers, ask about the Fireflies, ask about patrol. Her wound-up courage begins to spool out.

Tommy’s sprawled out on Joel’s couch; the room glows with dim, warm light, and a stack of records play in the corner. One of Joel’s whittling projects sits on the coffee table next to Tommy’s booted foot.

“Ellie!” says Tommy, not getting up. “How the hell are you!”

“Fine,” Ellie says, her fingers twisting together in front of her. There’s no way she can ask Joel anything tonight.

“Siddown, have a drink,” slurs Tommy, slamming his glass on the coffee table and slapping the couch cushion beside him.

“Tommy,” warns Joel, leaning against the record player.

“Relax, Joel,” Tommy blusters. “She’s not a kid no more.”

Ellie checks Joel’s face and shakes her head. “I’m good, thanks. I was just coming by to say hey.” Joel looks at her, so happy to see her, and she can’t find it in her to act as annoyed as she feels. “You look like you’re having fun,” she says, more to Joel than Tommy.

Joel gestures to the room with his glass. “Just catching up,” he says, in his easy way.

“Talkin’ ‘bout the good ol’ days,” says Tommy sarcastically.

Ellie’s pretty sure Tommy just chose Joel’s couch over his own for the night. She doesn’t say so, though.

“How’re things going, kiddo?”

Ellie fixes a smile on her face. “Good. They’re good. Um, I’ll get out of your hair.”

Tommy protests; asks her to stay.

“No, really, I should go. I’m meeting up with some people.”

She feels Joel’s eyes on her as she ducks out the back door.

\--

The knock wakes Ellie up. She wipes her eyes, confused, and pieces together that she fell asleep at her desk, waiting for Cat to show up. The smudged pencil on the page is probably mostly on her face, now.

“Can I come in?” comes Cat’s voice, quiet, from outside.

Ellie pushes up and stumbles toward the door as it opens, just enough for Cat to peer inside. “Um, yeah,” she mumbles, voice thick with sleep. She waves Cat inside.

Cat steps in and shuts the door behind her, quiet. There’s something in her hand Ellie can’t see.

“Sorry it’s so late,” Cat says, and then she must see the pencil on Ellie’s face because her face softens into this kind of saccharine smile. She comes up to Ellie, licks her thumb, and wipes at Ellie’s cheek. Her touch is gentle, sure. Intimate.

“Hey,” Ellie says, struck a little stupid. Is this a dream?

Cat’s hand falls and she gives Ellie this delighted grin. “I got the tattoo gun working,” she whispers.

“No way.” Ellie smiles a little easier. “Did you do one yet?”

“Sort of.” Cat holds up what looks like a lemon.

Ellie blinks. Maybe she _is_ dreaming. “That’s a lemon.”

Cat laughs and turns it to show Ellie a picture-perfect line-art version of her snake, centered neatly on the fruit. “You know what they say: ‘When life gives you lemons…’”

Ellie laughs and takes it to look more closely. “Tattoo them so they’re easily identifiable?”

“I don’t think that’s quite how it goes, but sure.” Cat rocks on her heels, beaming with pride. “I had my mom hold it against my arm so I could practice at the right angle. I don’t want to mess up my first try and, like, sour the experience.”

Ellie snorts. “Sour. You’re funny.” She looks up from the lemon and meets Cat’s eyes, glimmering in the dim lamplight. “Cat, this looks fucking great. You really did this at that”—she gestures—“weird angle?”

Cat nods. “I guess I could just do one on my leg as, like, easy practice, but… I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I just really want this one to be the first one.”

As if on its own, Ellie’s hand reaches out and touches the scar on Cat’s arm. The marker snake is already pretty faded. “It’s gonna be awesome. You’re such a great artist, Cat.” It comes out even more sincere than Ellie expected.

When she looks up, Cat’s eyes are still on her, solemn and deep, catching the light from the desk. Things feel warm; close. “Thanks,” Cat murmurs. Her eyes drop and she plucks the lemon from Ellie’s hand. “And thanks for, like, even finding that whole kit. I… kind of didn’t think it was ever gonna happen, to be honest.”

“Hey. I promised.”

Cat looks up again, her eyes filled with… something. Ellie bites her lip.

“Yeah, you did,” says Cat, still quiet. “It just…” She shakes her head. “Well. It felt kinda too good to be true.”

Ellie tries to answer, but her throat is dry, her mind blank.

“Kind of like you,” Cat adds in a whisper, her eyes scanning Ellie’s face.

Ellie swallows hard.

Again, Cat relents, dropping her eyes and running her thumb over the lemon’s skin. “Um. Anyway. I think I’m gonna do it for real tomorrow.”

Ellie forces air through her throat. “I have work tomorrow,” she says, her voice coming out lower than normal.

“I know.” Cat smiles in apology. “I think it’d be better to do it when I’m alone. I don’t want my hands to be shaky or anything. The gun is really different to work with than a pen.”

“Oh. Okay.” Shaky?

Cat does that thing where her hand raises halfway, then pauses in the space between them, then falls. “Maybe you can come by after work and see how far I got?”

Ellie nods. Smiles. “I can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song Ellie played for Cat.


	6. Shedding Skins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tattoos and a sweaty summer.

Dina and Jesse must have made up, because Ellie ends up walking to the stables a block behind them, watching their linked hands swing between them.

For once, Ellie really wants to skip work. But she’s pretty sure that’s all the excuse Joel would need to keep her stuck inside Jackson’s walls until she’s 18.

She’d also never forgive herself if Cat messed up her first tattoo because of the pressure of an audience. Ellie finds Cat’s voice repeating in her head: _I don’t want my hands to be shaky or anything_. Ellie’s pretty sure she didn’t mean anything by it, beyond the general pressure of having someone watch you do something difficult or scary, but it feels kind of nice to let herself pretend for a little while.

\--

Sometimes patrol makes it harder to forget about her immunity—the Fireflies, her life’s purpose extinguished. After the mall with Riley, when she’d found Marlene in a panic, explained what happened, Marlene made it sound world-changing. Life-altering. Big enough that maybe the pain would be worth it.

In this mall, as they keep clearing stores, they find small groups of infected, the occasional skeleton with a suicide note. No survivors. No one else who got bitten and just never turned. Just loads of people she should’ve been able to save.

It’s easy enough to harden the disappointment into anger. She lets it lead her out in front of the group, scouting behind doors, quietly taking down runners on her own. Jesse’s too busy looking at Dina to even give her shit about it.

\--

When they get back to the stables, Ellie’s briefly tempted to just dunk herself in the horses’ water trough, rather than go to the trouble of going home for a shower. Dina walks by and Ellie almost expects to get made fun of, since Dina has that way of hearing Ellie’s thoughts even when they aren’t out loud. But Dina just walks past her, and a glance confirms she’s heading directly for Jesse.

Ellie rolls her eyes. Those two never seem to stay apart for long. She’s pretty sure their record split was five days, back when they first got together, but they’re so _together_ even when they’re broken up, it’s hard to tell for sure.

Today, it’s easy to shrug off; Ellie has her own thing to look forward to now.

\--

“Ellie, is that you?” comes Cat’s mom’s voice when Ellie lets herself in the screen door.

Ellie braces herself for what is apparently going to happen every time she comes over, now. “Um, yeah,” she calls, stepping halfway into the living room. “Cat said to come by after work.”

Cat’s mom twists around to face her and folds her arm over the back of the couch. “You really made Cat’s day yesterday,” she says, smiling.

Ellie hangs on the frame of the doorway. “Oh, uh, yeah, I—I knew she was looking for one, so…” She trails off awkwardly.

“Well.” Cat’s mom taps her fingers. “You did good.”

“Ellie!” Cat, yelling from upstairs. “Is that you?”

Cat’s mom looks toward the stairs. Ellie gives her a half nod. “Um, thanks. Guess I’ll, um…” She points at the stairs and flees up them.

“How’s it going?” she asks in Cat’s doorway.

“Great! Come see.” Cat has her elbow on the desk and a jar next to it. Ellie walks up and she can see the outline of the snake, glistening wetly. “You’re right on time. I just finished it,” Cat says, pushing the tattoo gun to the back of the desk.

“Wow,” Ellie breathes. It’s there, for real. “That looks so good.”

“Here, help me.” Cat passes the jar to Ellie, and a roll of gauze. “Can you put that on it? Gently.”

Ellie scoops some of the gel out and gingerly touches it to the skin. Cat shivers a little. “Sorry.”

“It’s just cold. Don’t be stingy, now.”

Ellie smears the gel carefully over each line, making sure to cover the whole area. “What is this stuff?”

“Petroleum jelly.” Cat gives Ellie a sneaky little smile. “Lifted it from medical. You would’ve been proud.”

Ellie laughs, wiping the remnants off on the lip of the jar. “Look at you, all badass and shit, stealing stuff they give out for free.”

“Hey, be nice. I’m in pain here, suffering for my art. Bandage next.”

Ellie crouches a little to get a better angle and starts wrapping Cat’s arm. It’s hard not to brush against her. When she reaches the end of the bandage, she clips it in place.

“You should’ve been a nurse.” Cat’s eyes are friendly, teasing.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Ellie smirks and straightens up. “Way better at destruction.”

Cat catches her arm, right at the burn scar. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Ellie swallows and scuffs her shoe against the floor. “Well, you did it. Like, first one down. How’s it feel?”

“Even better than I imagined. This is like…” Cat shakes her head. “I don’t know, I guess it’s weird—like, this is a weird dream to have? But I honestly don’t think I’ve ever felt so happy or, like, satisfied, working on anything else.”

“Well.” Ellie twists her index finger; Cat’s hand drops from her arm. “Maybe you can open, like, a shop or something, in town.”

Cat looks at her, thoughtful. “That’s maybe a little bit genius.”

“Maybe it’s not, like, a full, full-time thing on its own, but you could trade off some of your regular rotation days, or something.” Ellie looks at Cat’s arm and smiles. “If you ever finish all the ones you have planned for yourself.”

“Don’t worry, _you_ are still at the top of my list.” Cat hooks her finger in Ellie’s jeans pocket and tugs a little.

Ellie wants to make a joke, but she can’t. “I—it’s okay, you know, I’m not, like, in a hurry. You should do yours first. You’re the one doing all the work.”

Cat shakes her head. “Honestly, you are ridiculous. I’m the one offering. I just want to do one or two more to practice first. Then you’re next on the menu.”

Ellie has no idea what to say to _that_.

“Well. Okay, then.”

\--

They decide to go to the Bison for dinner to celebrate and immediately bump into Jesse and Dina, who aren’t completely and utterly gross around each other, but do seem to keep at least two points of contact the whole time.

“Come sit with us!” Jesse says, pointing to the empty bench on the other side of their booth. Dina sits up a little straighter, her hand falling from his chest.

Ellie lets Cat scoot in and then sits beside her, conscious of the huge space between them contrasting the vacuum suction between Jesse and Dina.

“Look what the Cat dragged in,” Dina cracks, grinning.

Cat laughs, but Ellie grumbles, “You’re so fucking proud of yourself for that.”

“What smoked you out of your cave today?” Dina takes a drink of water.

“We’re celebrating,” Cat says, before Ellie can say something else sarcastic or pointed.

Jesse looks at her with that earnest, patient interest of his. His hand flexes where it loops around Dina’s shoulders. “Celebrating what?”

“Ellie found a tattoo gun on patrol the other day,” Cat says, turning her arm to show the bandage, “and I used it for the first real tattoo today.”

“Shit,” says Jesse, impressed. Dina gives Ellie a meaningful glance, although Ellie’s not sure what the meaning is. “You found that on patrol and didn’t even tell me?”

“Show us!” says Dina.

Ellie jumps in. “She has to keep it bandaged for the first day.”

Cat nods. “Just to make sure it doesn’t get infected. Dr. Glieson would kill me.”

Jesse laughs. “That’s true. Can you imagine?”

“Yeah”—Cat laughs too and impersonates Glieson’s nasal voice—“your _what_ got infected?”

“It looks so cool though,” Elie says, despite herself.

Dina sits forward in her seat. “I can’t believe you’re gonna just tease us like this when we can’t see it! What’s it of?”

“It’s—”

“It’s—this super badass snake,” Ellie says, accidentally starting at the same time Cat does. They look at each other and laugh a little, self-conscious.

“I, um, have a sketch,” Cat offers, digging her sketchbook out of her bag.

As she flips to the page, Ellie feels Dina’s eyes on her. She keeps her gaze glued to the pages as Cat flips to the snake, then turns it outward.

“Whoa, that’s really cool,” Jesse says, easily.

“That’s a good one,” Dina says. “There were so many of those in the desert.”

Cat nods. “I had a couple run ins with snakes before we got to Jackson.” Ellie peers at her, curious. Cat shrugs and says, “It’s not the snake’s fault, though. And I like that they shed their skins. It’s a nice thought, being able to just, like, slough off all the gross shit you’ve been through and be, like, clean and new.”

It occurs to Ellie that she was kind of an idiot, trying to be respectful and not ask about it. Cat’s one of the most open people Ellie’s ever met. Of course she would come out and say just what she’s thinking.

“I never thought about it like that,” Dina says, leaning her chin on her hand. “Mostly all I thought about snakes was, please don’t be in my sleeping bag or my boots.”

Jesse and Cat laugh, and Ellie finds herself smiling, even though she’s a little annoyed with Dina today. “Maybe I’ll add some boots later,” Cat jokes kindly, “in your honor, Dina.”

Dina snorts. “I should be so lucky.”

\--

At home, at night, alone, Ellie can’t stop practicing the song she played for Cat, the song from the cassette tape. She wonders if Cat’s sitting in her room, in her house, listening to it on the Walkman.

Ellie hasn’t asked for it back in a while. It’s nice, doing this. Playing the notes, pretending Cat’s hearing the same ones across town. Imagining they’re connected, a thin filament stretched across the space, linking them.

\--

Already summer is blistering, unrelenting. Ellie’s dripping with sweat by the end of group patrol, which they spent on _theory_ and _protocol_ , standing out in the sun the whole time for no good fucking reason. Even with her hard-fought good attitude, Ellie has trouble paying attention when her body just wants to curl up and sleep until the sun goes down.

She’s fantasizing about a nice cold shower when she opens the gate to the yard and realizes someone’s standing at her door.

“Cat?”

Cat turns to her, smiling, looking sweet and wholesome and fresh as a fucking daisy. Ellie panics a little, feeling all the smells rolling off her pores and damp clothes.

“Hey, Ellie!” She steps out of the way of the door, so Ellie can let them both in.

“What’re you doing here?” Ellie asks, trying to leave space between them for the sake of Cat’s nose. “Sorry, um, I totally fucking reek, I know.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think about it,” Cat says, sounding a little embarrassed. “I can wait if you want to shower.”

Ellie dumps her bag on the sofa, stalling. What’s worse, hanging out with Cat while she smells like a body odor factory, or taking a shower with a one-inch-thick door between them?

Cat’s saying, “That might be good anyway, ‘cause the reason I’m here is I want to do the first session on your arm, today.”

Ellie blinks and whirls, arms pinned tight to her sides to keep the factory under wraps. “My arm?”

Cat jostles the bag on her back and points at Ellie’s scar. Cat’s snake has been open to the air for a few days, and there’s a fresh bandage on her opposite forearm, evidently from another practice session. “Your moth?”

Ellie chomps down on her cheek to tamp down her excitement. “Fuck, yeah! Let me—” She almost trips over her feet on her way to the dresser. She grabs blindly for clothes—any clothes that don’t smell—and wads them up in her hands.

Cat’s standing by the couch still, giggling into her hand. Ellie’s too excited to worry about looking cool; she just grins and says, “Just give me a minute?”

Almost shyly, Cat nods and takes a seat on the couch, pulling her bag off and starting to unzip it.

Ellie shuts herself in the bathroom with shaking hands. She locks the door carefully; it might be the first time she’s ever locked it, but it helps her feel a little less vulnerable, stripping down with Cat right out there, so close Ellie can hear her zipping things open and putting things on the coffee table. She takes the fastest shower she’s taken since she was living on the road, then throws on the clothes she brought in with her.

Cat’s sitting on a pillow on the floor next to the coffee table, half her kit bag unpacked and Ellie’s desk lamp set up in front of her. She smiles and pats the floor next to her.

“Um, thanks for waiting,” Ellie says to fill the air, padding over and sitting down.

“Of course. I’m the one who ambushed you.” Cat smiles, her cheeks a little pink. She taps the cloth she laid down on the wood. “Put your arm on the table.”

Ellie obeys, and Cat shifts forward and grips Ellie’s wrist, testing her position for comfort. “Are you going to be okay sitting like that for a long time? Do you want a pillow?”

The table is slightly too high to actually be comfortable like this, but discomfort is relative. “I can take it.”

Cat smiles and shakes her head. “El, this isn’t about being a tough guy. If you’re uncomfortable, you might move around, and you know what that means.”

Ellie sighs in frustration and stomps over to the sofa for another pillow. When she settles back down, dropping her arm back onto the table, Cat laughs a little. “Happy?” Ellie asks, impatient despite herself.

Cat runs her hand over the scar, unhurried, her fingertips finding each divot and ripple. “I have to ask again. You’re sure you still want to do this?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

“And you’re sure this is what you want?” Cat nods at the sketchbook, open on the table as a reference.

Ellie wets her lips. “Yeah. The moth.”

Cat peers at her, her dark eyes lively. “Why?” she asks, her voice very quiet. “Why a moth, Ellie?”

Ellie’s eyes go to the guitar in the corner, but she gives herself a moment to think about the question. Cat deserves a real answer. “Moths always look for the light,” Ellie says, equally quiet. “I want to be like that. Look for more than just darkness.”

Cat’s thumb rubs back and forth across the scar, absently. She looks at Ellie, into Ellie, for another moment, then gives a firm nod and starts arranging the equipment from her kit. Cat comes back to grip Ellie’s arm, firm, and carefully skims a razor across the surface.

“You’re so professional,” Ellie says, meaning to tease but coming off more awed.

“I take this seriously,” Cat says, sounding almost self-conscious—or the most self-conscious she’s ever sounded, for someone usually so confident. “So, this design is pretty big, so I’m just going to do the lines for the moth tonight. It’ll take a while to get the whole thing done and filled in.”

“Guess I have to keep hanging out with you.” Ellie can’t keep the dumb grin off her face.

Cat smiles at her. “Yeah. Lucky you.” She turns her attention back to the task. “Knowing you, I don’t think the pain is gonna be an issue, but if you need a break or anything, just say so. I really, really don’t want to end up with a permanent squiggle on there because of some stupid miscommunication.”

“I hear you. I’ll tell you if I need to stop.”

Cat gives her one more look, serious, excited, and turns the gun on.

\--

If it weren’t for the sun moving, Ellie wouldn’t even notice how long it actually takes for Cat to trace out the moth and ink in the lines and details. It feels surreal, and so slow that she actually does feel like one of those mosquitoes, suspended in hardened amber, dormant for untold millennia. Cat has the same focused eyes and steady hand she did at the lake, although the needle feels a lot more permanent and intimate than the marker did. Like Ellie’s body knows the significance of what’s happening.

It still feels a lot less painful than the lye burn did.

Several times, Ellie almost talks, but she silences herself to let Cat focus. Whenever Cat adjusts her grip or changes the angle of her wrist, her eyes run up to Ellie’s face, checking her for—something. Pain, maybe.

For the most part, Ellie keeps her eyes on the work, the wings sprouting from the needle. The burn, the bite, becoming something new.

\--

“There,” Cat finally says, her voice tremulous. She turns off the gun, carefully wipes Ellie’s arm clean one last time, and sits back on the pillow for the first time since she started.

“Cat,” Ellie breathes, gingerly turning her arm toward herself to look at the full picture.

Cat wets her lips. She sounds nervous: “What do you think?”

Ellie instinctively reaches out to touch it, then stops herself, a few inches away. “This looks so fucking good.” She shakes her head. “That’s what I think.”

“Really?” Cat sits back further and pulls her knees up.

Ellie looks at her and grins. “Fucking really-really.”

Cat lets out a shaky breath and looks at Ellie’s arm again, like she’s given herself permission to be proud of herself, now that Ellie approves. “It did turn out pretty much like I wanted.”

“See, you sell yourself short. You’re so talented.”

“Well, you’re a good canvas.”

Ellie snorts. “That’s nice of you, but what complete bullshit. Probably like trying to draw on a big glob of moose snot.”

Cat laughs. “It wasn’t a big deal.” A beat. “You really sure you like it? Not just saying that?”

“Absolutely. I like it so much I still want you to do the rest.”

“Good.” Cat looks at Ellie for another long moment, almost lingering, before she drags the kit bag back around and starts packing her things away again, her movements already practiced and precise.

“That wasn’t really like I thought it would be,” Ellie admits, struggling for words even as she speaks. “I thought it would be kind of… I don’t know. Not a big deal. But it feels really…”

Still struggling, Ellie’s eyes go to Cat’s, but Cat doesn’t throw her a line this time. She just waits.

Ellie swallows. “I don’t know. Intimate, I guess.”

Cat looks and looks at her, the moment stretched out like a warm rubber band, languid and soft.

“Yeah,” Cat finally says. “It does.”

\--

Even though it’s hot as a motherfucker outside, Ellie wears long sleeves to work the next day to hide the bandage. She doesn’t want to spoil the big surprise when she can’t pair it with a big reveal. The whole day, she feels impatient, eager to reach the 24-hour mark so she can peel the bandage off, see the start of her metamorphosis.

“You cold or something?” Dina snorts at lineup.

“Just out of clean clothes,” Ellie says.

“Not surprised. You keep sweating through everything.”

Ellie shrugs. “Summer in Jackson for ya.”

Dina laughs without humor. She gives Ellie a sideways smirk. “You would’ve straight-up died in New Mexico. Just be a puddle on the floor.”

Ellie rolls her eyes and doesn’t respond. It feels too hot to think of something funny to say.

“We’re going to practice working in pairs today, then meeting up at the lookout,” Jesse says as he leads the five of them out of the gates. He points to the three pairs, putting Dina with Ellie instead of himself. “Be smart. You run into anything you can’t handle…”

“Come back,” everyone choruses.

“There you go. Remember, your partner is your life out here, and you’re theirs. Stick together.”

“No cowboy shit,” Chad volunteers.

“No cowboy shit.”

\--

They sit in silence for a while, just listening to the horses plodding and the crickets and birds screaming around them. Ellie wants to ask what’s up with Jesse, why he didn’t pair himself with Dina when they’ve been back together for a couple weeks, but she can’t quite bring herself to say it out loud.

“Feels almost like real patrol,” Dina comments. Ellie looks over at her. Dina sits comfortably on the horse—her horse, now—with her hands loose and confident on the reins, her knife jutting out at an angle on her belt, gun tucked in her waistband. Everything about her seems so easy, so comfortable in her own skin, the way animals never feel embarrassed or awkward, never wonder what to do with their hands.

“You know,” Dina adds, breaking Ellie’s hazy stare, “with just two of us, instead of the whole clown troupe.”

Ellie snaps her eyes forward and swallows against her dry throat. “Yeah, kind of.” She wonders what she looks like, from where Dina’s sitting. Probably sweaty. And awkward.

“You think they’ll put us out together someday for real?”

“I dunno.” Ellie guides Shimmer around a tree, Dina out of sight for a moment. “I kind of thought you and Jesse were gonna be paired up.”

Dina shakes her head, her face a blank mask when she comes back into view. “I told him I don’t want it to be like that.”

Ellie squints at her in the sun. “Like what?”

Dina shakes her head again, nudging her horse forward faster. “Like, him and me together all day, every day. It’s… Nobody would take me seriously.”

Shimmer kicks up a little to keep pace, falling in behind. “That’s hard to believe.” Ellie wipes her face with her sleeve. “Anyone not taking you seriously.”

Dina scoffs. “You’d be surprised.”

Ellie’s not sure what to say, but she realizes that even if she knows Dina, she doesn’t necessarily know the whole picture of Dina’s life. Dina spends a lot of time with friends Ellie considers acquaintances, going to all the bonfires and parties and everything. It’s strange to think Ellie only knows a sliver.

“Guess they never saw you on patrol, then,” Ellie offers.

Dina laughs. “That’s true. Imagine Andre on fucking patrol.”

Ellie chuckles. “Or Candice.”

“Not sure she can even ride a horse.”

“Probably not well.”

Silence settles again. Ellie wants to pull around, come up next to her and say—something, something comforting or reassuring, but it’s hard when Dina never comes out and says what’s bothering her, exactly.

“You coming to the lake tomorrow?”

“The lake?”

Ellie can almost hear Dina rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, you know, it’s like a puddle, but really, really big. Can’t miss it.”

Ellie glares at Dina’s back. “I know what the lake _is_. I didn’t know people were going.”

“That’s ‘cause you spend all your time hiding out in your cave with _Ca-at_.”

“Do not.” Ellie bristles, annoyed on a few levels. “I can’t swim right now anyway,” she adds, remembering the rules Cat laid out about caring for a fresh tattoo.

“Oh, is _that_ why you’re so irritable today?” Dina teases, misunderstanding.

“You can fuck all the way off. Just for that, I’m definitely not going.”

Dina kicks her horse up a little faster. “I didn’t even say I wanted you to go.”

Shimmer keeps pace again, not wanting to be left behind. Ellie lets her, worrying the reins with her nails. “You want me to go, or else you wouldn’t have even told me about it. You know I wouldn’t go otherwise.”

“That’s true. Why am I friends with a hermit, anyway?”

“For variety,” Ellie shoots back drily. “And ‘cause nobody else keeps up with your shit.”

Dina laughs, her ponytail tossing back and forth. “Yeah, yeah. You’re alright, I guess.”

\--

Cat blows smoke out the window, holding the joint carefully outside the air of her room. “Do you want to go?” she asks, tilting her hand toward Ellie’s in offering.

Ellie ducks out the window to take a drag, pause, and then blow out. “I mean, not really. It’s gonna be the same dumb group it always is. And we can’t even swim with—” Ellie jiggles her right elbow.

“Yeah. Kinda hot to go sit by a lake and not swim,” Cat agrees, retreating fully into the room to sit on the end of the bed.

“Guess we could put our feet in. Just doesn’t feel worth it.” Ellie considers the joint stub in her hand, then takes one last pull.

“I’d rather just hang out with you than them, anyway,” Cat says. Ellie glances at her, but Cat’s lying on her back, her face angled toward the ceiling.

If Ellie didn’t know better, _just you_ would sound pretty dangerous, but she and Cat have settled into almost an orbit around each other. Sometimes they get close together, but never close enough to actually collide. Never close enough to cause any damage.

Ellie squishes the end out on the shingles, making sure the embers are totally dead, then flicks the remainder into the bushes below. When she turns around, Cat has her head propped up on her arms, her eyes on Ellie.

“Yeah, me too,” Ellie says belatedly, her throat feeling dry from the smoke. “That was good shit. Where’d you even get it?”

“Older guy at work. He heard me talking about a videotape I found, and he wanted to trade me for it.”

Ellie sits against the headboard, stretching her legs out on the bed between them. “Must’ve been some tape,” she mumbles.

Cat laughs. “Oh my god, did I not tell you about it?”

“What?”

“I told you I was helping sort the junk you guys found at the mall,” Cat starts.

“Right.”

“One of the boxes of electronics was like a garage sale bin of old stuff. And at the bottom I found this tape”—Cat starts laughing and puts her arm over her eyes—“labeled, I’m not kidding, _Dong of the Wolf_.”

Ellie stares. “D—…”

“Dong. Of the wolf.” Cat turns to her, still laughing. “It must be, like, bad werewolf porn. Seriously.”

Ellie’s mouth drops open. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. He thought it was hilarious, too. Said he’d trade for it.” Cat moves her arm to rest on her stomach and smiles. “So here we are.”

Ellie snorts. “Here we are. High as fuck.”

With her arm laid like that, Ellie has a perfect view of Cat’s healing snake. Just as the thought coalesces in her mind, Ellie finds herself kneeling next to Cat on the bed, looking closely at the ink. “This came out so perfect,” Ellie says, quietly.

“Um, thanks,” says Cat, just as quiet.

Ellie moves to look Cat squarely in the eyes. “Do you think your mom knows we were smoking weed up here?” Ellie asks in the same quiet, serious tone.

Cat smiles, then laughs, surprised. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Sometimes it feels like your mom knows, like, everything,” Ellie says. She frowns in suspicion. “Or maybe you just tell her stuff.”

Cat rolls her eyes. “I swear you are so paranoid. You tell Joel stuff, too.”

“Nah.” Ellie sits back on her heels and tips too far back, landing on her butt. “Joel and I don’t really tell stuff.” She frowns. “Tell each other stuff?”

Cat looks at her. “Never?”

Ellie shakes her head. Firm. “We just, like, play guitar, or watch movies.”

Cat rolls over onto her belly. “That’s kind of sad.”

Ellie startles, then pulls her knees up to her chest. “It’s not sad. It’s just… Joel.”

“Hmm.” Cat props her head on her hand, considering. “Good thing you have me, then, I guess.”

Ellie stares, feeling suddenly, strongly aware of all the things she’s too scared to say to Cat. Like she’s a rock at the bottom of a lake full of things she wants to say.

“Yeah,” she croaks, then coughs. “Guess so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I learned too late that it doesn't actually get sweltering hot in Jackson in summer, but it's hot where I am, so it's gonna be hot in this story. Chalk it up to climate adjustments post-humanity.


	7. Orbit

It seems weird to knock on Cat’s door, when Ellie’s been letting herself in the last few times, but it seems weirder to wander inside this early in the day, so Ellie knocks.

Of course, Cat’s mom answers the door, not Cat. “Ellie,” she says, sounding almost happy to see her.

“Hi,” Ellie says, worrying the knuckles of her hands. “Um, Cat said she’s off today too, and I should come by after breakfast?”

Cat appears behind her mom. Beside one another, they look strikingly similar. “Hi! Come in!” Cat’s mom moves out of the way, so Ellie slips inside.

“Hey, um, I’m here,” Ellie says, uncertainly.

Cat looks at her like she’s a doofus, but maybe in a good way. “You do know why I invited you over, right?”

Ellie blinks. Cat’s mom looks between them. “Because… we’re friends?”

Cat rolls her eyes and starts up the stairs. As Ellie trails after her, Cat says, “It’s been long enough; we can do another session on your arm today.”

“Oh!” Ellie speeds up, almost catching Cat on the landing. In Cat’s room, Cat steers Ellie to sit on the bed and scoots the desk chair over in front of her. Her kit’s already set up, half on the bed next to Ellie, half on the nightstand, with the usual nightstand things cleared to the edge against the wall.

As she sits in the chair, Cat seems to notice Ellie is still catching up. “Sorry, um, I thought you knew and you’d be all excited about it too. Do you want to wait?”

“No! No, I want to work on it,” Ellie emphasizes. “I dunno, I just thought I had to wait way longer between, like, sittings.”

“Okay. Because we can wait…” Cat watches Ellie’s face as she slowly spreads a towel across the arm of her chair.

Ellie shakes her head firmly. “No, my brain’s just still catching up. I’m on board. Thank god I’m not the one with the gun, huh?”

Cat smirks. “Not usually true, but I’m not gonna disagree, in this case.” She taps the chair arm and Ellie leans forward to rest her arm there.

Again, she scrapes a razor over Ellie’s skin, with utmost care. This time, she covers a wide swath of Ellie’s arm, up to her wrist, instead of the peach stubble growing back over the moth. Her grip is firm and gentle on Ellie’s palm.

“Doing the plant today?” Ellie asks.

“Yeah. Want to give this area a break,” Cat explains, skimming her finger over the wings, still a bit raw to the touch. “You liked the fern I drew, right?”

Ellie nods. Really, she’s never seen Cat draw anything she didn’t like.

Cat takes a pencil and draws just the stem of the fern, maybe testing the angle, or the curve. “Do you wanna know why I picked a fern?” she asks, conversational, casual.

“Sure.” Ellie’s hand closes instinctively around Cat’s, then releases.

Cat’s eyes meet hers for a moment. Cat bites her lips, then says, “Ferns represent new life.” She breaks eye contact to pick up the tattoo gun. “And peace, and tranquility.” She hesitates, her finger on the power switch. “I figure we can all use a little of that, huh?”

\--

Cat starts with the stem, curving softly to the base of Ellie’s thumb. Then she starts at the far end, drawing tiny, delicate leaves, then wider ones, all swooping toward Cat as if toward the sun. She holds Ellie’s hand to keep her still, although Ellie’s body doesn’t seem to know that’s why. Aside from the buzzing and pain from the gun, Ellie’s senses are caught up in Cat, her black hair soaking in the red sunlight from the window, her knee pressed between Ellie’s against the bed, her slim shoulders bent under the straps of her tank top.

There’s something almost primal about it, about Cat coloring over the bite, the burn, the accidents and choices that chart Ellie’s destiny up to now. Or maybe it’s the pain, and the smell of Cat’s hair floating around her like a cloud, and the red haze of Cat’s curtains that make her room feel surreal and dreamlike.

Cat adjusts her grip, her fingers pressing firm, confident, against the soft underside of Ellie’s wrist and arm. The fern leaves spread wide, open, like bird’s wings, like flower petals, swooping out and around both sides of her arm. At the end of the stem, she bends Ellie’s arm up, folded double with her hand pressing against her shoulder, so she can add the last leaves behind the moth’s left wing. Their hands press together, hot in the warmth of the room, Cat’s face and body close, brushing Ellie’s as she finishes the last touches.

When Cat releases Ellie’s hand, when she sits back just a little, turns the gun off and sets it down, her eyes go right to Ellie’s, and then to Ellie’s lips.

And then, finally, their orbits collide.

\--

It all happens in one moment: Cat is there, close, looking at her, and then she touches her face, climbs carefully onto her lap, and then they’re kissing, they’re _kissing_.

For one moment, everything is perfect.

\--

Then everything explodes.

_It’s not safe. I’m infected. Not safe. Infected._

Ellie shoves Cat off onto the bed, shoves herself back, gasping for air like she’s been trapped underwater. “What are you doing?” she says, or yells, or maybe it comes out strangled.

Cat says, “I thought that was obvious,” but all Ellie can think about is what will happen next, what happened to Riley, how she’s going to lose Cat the same way, how she’ll lose her best friend and then on top of that everyone will want to know how, how did Cat get infected, Cat who never goes outside the walls?

“I’m sorry,” Ellie says, trying to calm her panic, her hands fisted in the bedcovers. “I’m—I didn’t…” She forces air through her system. The red light makes Cat look pinker, tinted, inf—

Cat watches her, waiting.

“C-can we talk a walk?”

\--

Outside, Cat leads them toward the storehouses, quiet this time of year. Ellie fiddles with the edge of the bandage Cat wrapped around the fresh ink.

“I’m sorry,” they both say at the same time.

“You shouldn’t be sorry,” Ellie says. “I actually really wanted to do that. I just…”

Cat looks at her, that steady, unrelenting look. “Then what’s wrong?” she asks, gentler than Ellie really deserves.

Ellie starts to cross her arms, then forces her hands into her pockets, instead. “I just never k-kissed anyone before,” she lies, fumbling the word. “I don’t know. I was just really nervous.”

When she looks over, Cat is smiling at her, that _you’re a doofus_ smile. “That’s cute,” she says.

“Shut up.” Ellie rubs her neck. Her cheeks and ears feel like they’re on fire.

After a moment, Cat teases, “I can’t believe nobody ever kissed you before.”

Ellie bites the inside of her cheek. “What can I say? I’m an acquired taste.”

“Hmm.” Cat smiles at her, a deep, delighted smile, and touches her lips. “Taste worth acquiring.”

“Oh my god,” Ellie groans, pushing Cat away, lightly. Cat laughs some more, and outside in the daylight, she looks so normal, so herself, that Ellie feels a germ of hope starting to grow.

\--

“I didn’t get to say, thanks for the session today,” Ellie says, passing the trail mix to Cat.

“You’re welcome,” Cat replies, digging in the mix for pistachios. “I think it turned out better than when I did the marker.”

“I don’t know,” Ellie says, testing her nerve, “I was mostly looking at you the whole time, but what I saw, I liked.”

Cat looks at her sharply and cracks a nut with her teeth. “Are you flirting with me?”

Ellie grabs the bag back and aims her eyes at it. “Maybe.”

“Wow. You’ve really come a long way today,” Cat says, pretending to marvel. “All the way from terrified of kissing to actually actively flirting. Bravo.”

“God, fuck you,” Ellie groans. “Way to make sure I’ll never do it again.”

“It’s like watching a tadpole grow legs and hop away.”

“That is insulting and _also_ gross. Bravo.”

“Frogs are cool.”

“Fuck you and fuck your frogs too.”

\--

“So what happens now?” Ellie asks. She glances at Cat, lying beside her on the roof of the storehouse, watching the first signs of sunset.

“I’m thinking we go watch a movie, after the sun sets.”

Ellie pushes up on her elbow, frowning. “You know what I mean.”

Cat looks at her, mischievous. “I know what you mean.”

“So?”

Cat shrugs mildly. “That depends. If I kiss you again, are you gonna throw me across the room again?”

Ellie studies her closely. “Does that mean you actually want to kiss me again? After I freaked out?”

Cat’s smile tucks in at the edges, softer, sweeter. She props up on her elbow to get level with Ellie; reaches out, fingers grazing her cheek, her jaw. “Yes,” she says, so simply.

It feels easy, this time. What’s done is already done.

Ellie cups the back of Cat’s neck and kisses her.

\--

Cat kisses gently, firmly, her pressure consistent, her movements slow. As they kiss, she leans closer, easing Ellie onto her back. She draws back to look Ellie in the eyes, smiling. “You’re a better kisser when you aren’t so terrified,” she teases.

“Oh, I’m still terrified.” The words slip from Ellie before she can catch them.

Cat smiles harder, wrinkling her nose. “You’re so fucking cute,” she says, and before Ellie can tease her for swearing, which she never does, not like that, Cat leans down and presses their lips together again.

Ellie’s fingers twitch against Cat’s throat, her free hand lifting to Cat’s waist, hesitant and then firm, pulling them together. Ellie pushes her fears from her mind. The world is Cat, the soft, warm pressure of her mouth, the sweet smell of sweat and ink, the silk of her bangs against Ellie’s skin.

Perfect.

\--

“I feel like you don’t really like this movie.”

“Nope, as I said before, I am having absolutely no regrets about letting you pick.”

“If you don’t like it, we can turn it off.”

“I’ve never had more fun in my life.”

Cat stares resolutely at the screen, but she grins when she senses Ellie looking at her. Without turning, she throws a piece of popcorn at Ellie’s face.

“Can you even tell me what the movie’s about?”

Cat nods. “Yeah, yeah, it’s about this guy”—she points when Curtis shows up on screen—“and his, this kid”—she points at Viper—“going around beating people up.”

Ellie snorts. “Wow, you must really like me, huh.”

Cat smirks at that. “Hush. I’m watching a movie.”

\--

Cat falls asleep before the movie’s even over. Ellie sits quietly for a while, just looking at her in the flickering light of the screen. She never really let herself complete the thoughts before, not totally, so now she takes her time with them, admiring Cat’s soft face and rounded nose, her gentle eyes, the light crease between her eyebrows, the dark fall of her hair. Cat has one arm folded over her stomach, the other tossed carelessly over her head on the pillow, open and vulnerable and fearless, even in sleep. The snake stands guard on her bicep, another secret turned outward to the world, a weakness made a weapon.

It's been a long time, now. So many hours. Riley didn’t take this long to turn. But, what if it’s just slower, this way?

Slowly, Ellie levers herself up, removing her weight from the bed in increments. She crosses the room quietly and wraps her fingers around the familiar grip of her switchblade, easing it out of the wood of the nightstand. Still watching, still waiting for a sign, she presses the blade into the handle and tucks it into her pocket.

Just in case.

\--

When dawn lights up the sky outside, Ellie decides she’s waited long enough. It’s been almost a full 24 hours. Twice as long as it should take to turn.

Maybe nothing bad is actually going to happen. Maybe this time, she gets to be happy.

\--

“Ellie,” she hears, rousing her from sleep. “Ellie, wake up.”

Ellie blinks. The room is bright. Cat’s there, propped up over her, close. Cat’s eyes run across her face. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she says.

“What…” Ellie reaches up to rub her face, her hand colliding with Cat’s arm on the way. Cat doesn’t move.

Cat hovers, almost hesitating. “I didn’t want to wake you, but it’s getting kind of late, and I’m pretty sure you have patrol today.”

“Oh.” Ellie’s hand goes to Cat’s arm, almost automatically. She lets go immediately. “Oh—sorry.”

Cat smiles, that deep, happy smile that wrinkles her nose. “You’re such a doofus.”

“I’m—?”

Cat moves in, then, to kiss her. Ellie’s heart drops to her lap with a lurch, charging her pulse against her throat. Not a dream, then. And Cat’s still herself. Not infected.

“You should brush your teeth,” Cat teases, getting up. Ellie feels herself blushing. “Wish I could stay,” Cat continues as Ellie sits up, touching her lips almost in disbelief. Cat catches her and smirks. “But I actually have work today, too. Maybe we can continue this later?”

Ellie blinks. _This?_ She nods, not trusting her voice.

Cat grins wider, then bites her lips into her mouth. Her hand lingers on the doorknob. “Don’t, um, forget to take your bandage off before you go.” Then she’s gone.

\--

Ellie gets ready double-time, the cold water and bright sunlight shocking her awake after barely sleeping. On the way to the stables, half walking and half jogging, she takes her first real look at the fern tattoo, gingerly touching the plain, ribbed leaves. As always, Cat’s work is beautiful.

Everyone’s gathered up except Jesse, which is unusual. Ellie hovers at the back, staring at her arm and thinking about Cat.

“Are you serious?” says Dina, suddenly right next to her. “You got a fucking tattoo and didn’t even fucking tell me?”

Ellie glares. “I had it in the open for like two weeks now,” she shoots back. “Not my fault you’re totally unobservant.”

“Let me see,” Dina says unnecessarily, pulling Ellie’s arm toward her. In the sun, Ellie can see a little scab formed on the body of the moth, where several lines intersect.

Dina’s wrinkling her nose. “What is it?” she asks, skimming her fingers over the fresh leaves. Her fingers are rough, but the touch is gentle.

“It’s a fern.” Ellie pulls her arm away, ghosting her fingers over the same leaves. New life, Cat said.

“What’s that?” Dina asks. She’s looking at the moth. “Over the burn?”

Ellie touches the scab, self-conscious. “It’s a moth.”

“Gross.” Ellie glares. “Why a moth?”

“None of your business, nosy.” Ellie shoves Dina’s hand away, annoyed.

Dina’s unfazed, grabbing Ellie’s wrist and pulling it closer. She runs her finger over the moth silhouette, the touch light and ticklish. “Is it, like, because it’s a burn? And moths like flames?”

Of course Dina of all people would be so wrapped up in her own shit that she didn’t notice a huge tattoo for two weeks, and then have the nerve to be offended she didn’t know, and _then_ be a brat about the design. “Um, I guess it could be,” Ellie mutters, guarded.

Dina shakes her head and releases her. “I don’t know, I wouldn’t let Cat do anything permanent on my body,” she dismisses.

Ellie looses a short, humorless laugh. “What’s your beef with Cat, anyway?” she asks, feeling suddenly brave. “You liked her fine until—”

“I like Cat fine,” Dina snaps. “I just like your arm, too. Don’t want her to fuck it up.”

Ellie looks at her arm again, at the delicate wings, the fern reaching out toward her hand. “You don’t think it looks cool?” she asks, her anger settling. The moth does look a bit bare now, just an outline, a suggestion of what’s to come. “Maybe just because it’s only line art. It’ll look cool when it’s done.”

Dina snorts and looks away. “Whatever,” she mutters. “It’s your arm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a minor self-promotion, but that last scene is also featured as a flashback in my other TLOU fic, if you want to read it from Dina's perspective.


	8. What Happens Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clearly my estimate of 9 chapters is going to be hilariously low

In the afternoon, as Ellie slides off Shimmer and goes to lead her to the stable, she sees something totally new: Cat, standing at the gate, waiting for her.

Ellie checks in Shimmer and her gear as fast as possible and makes her way over, past the clot of stable hands and tired, hot patrollers.

“Hey,” she says, a little breathless when she gets there.

“Hi,” Cat says, wearing that smile. “Surprise.”

“Yeah,” Ellie says, not sure quite what to say. “You, um, got done early?”

Cat shrugs. “Earlier than you.” Her smile turns a little shy. “I wanted to see you.”

“Oh.” Ellie grins. “Here I am.”

Cat’s eyes flick over Ellie’s shoulder, and suddenly she’s soaked in cold water. Ellie shrieks and dodges away. It’s Dina standing there, holding an empty bucket, grinning like an asshole.

“What the actual everloving fuck?” Ellie yells.

“Figured I’d do Cat a favor since you smell like ass,” Dina says, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

“Nice of you.” Cat’s walking the line between sincerity and sarcasm.

“I thought so,” Dina says, and Ellie shoves her.

“You are such a fucking asshole today.”

“Oh-ho. Don’t be so dramatic.” Dina frowns. “Had to give you something to remember me by, anyway.”

Ellie wipes water from her eyes, leaning her hip against the fence next to Cat. “Remember you by?”

“Today was my last day of group patrol.” Dina tosses the bucket back toward the stable. “Enjoy the rest of kindergarten without me.”

Before Ellie can figure out what to even say to that, Dina heads off toward town. Ellie wipes her face on her soaking wet sleeve.

“That was kinda weird,” Cat says.

“Yeah…” Ellie comes back to herself, her adrenaline shifting away from violence and toward something else. Now that she’s facing Cat, they’re really close, even with the fence between them. “How was your—”

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

Ellie smiles. “Yeah.”

\--

“I feel like every time I see you lately, you’re soaking wet,” Cat teases.

“This time feels pretty egregious, though.”

Cat smirks. “For someone so into puns, you don’t really catch double entendres, huh?”

Ellie blinks, then gapes at her. “Wow, that whole sweet and innocent thing was an act all along, huh?”

“I contain multitudes.” Cat shrugs.

Ellie snorts. “Horny multitudes, apparently.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Ellie just shakes her head, letting both of them into the garage. She dumps her wet bag on the floor and starts fighting her wet shoelaces.

“So why was Dina all pissed off?” asks Cat, perching on the arm of the couch.

Ellie shrugs, picking at a knot. “Who the fuck knows? Sometimes she’s just a dick. I dunno.” One knot finally comes free, and Ellie peels the shoe and then the sock off her foot before attacking the other.

“Did you tell her anything?”

“What do you mean? Like—” Ellie pauses and glances up. Cat looks at her, as calm and as steady as ever. Ellie licks her lips. “She saw my tattoo this morning. Guess she didn’t notice it before now, somehow. But I didn’t…” Ellie shakes her head, turning back to the shoelaces. “I didn’t tell her anything else.”

There’s a pause, then Cat gets up and comes over. “Here,” she says, kneeling next to Ellie and shooing Ellie’s hands from the laces. For her, the knot comes loose almost immediately.

“Thanks.” Ellie stands and steps on the heel to pull her foot out, then yanks her sock off, too. “Maybe she’s—”

Ellie cuts off when Cat enters her space, taking hold of the bottom hem of her shirt where it sticks to her skin. Cat’s eyes are charged, electric. “I think that’s enough about Dina for now,” she says quietly.

“O-okay,” Ellie stammers. Cat pushes the shirt up slowly, her hands leaving white-hot tracks against Ellie’s cold, damp skin. Ellie stares, unable to look away, anchored by Cat’s dark, still eyes. Cat only looks down when she reaches the elastic band, taut across Ellie’s ribs, soaked with trough water and sweat. She hesitates, her fingertips light and ticklish.

Slowly, Ellie reaches back and grabs the fabric at her neck, drawing the shirt over her head and dropping it on the floor. Cat bites her lip, her hands spreading flat against Ellie’s skin. Ellie hears her pulse in her ears, her blood flowing down in a rush below her belly.

Ellie pulls Cat in, pressing their lips and bodies together. Cat makes a contented noise against her, her kisses a little hungrier, toothier. Her hands drift and then hook in Ellie’s front pockets; Cat breaks the kiss, breathing hard, resting their foreheads together. “Okay, slow down,” Cat murmurs, to herself or Ellie or both.

Ellie swallows hard, her body thrumming and alive. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

Cat curls her fingers, tugging Ellie’s pockets. “I’m, um, I’m gonna go splash some water on my face,” she says, giving Ellie a smile with narrowed eyes. “You should put on some dry clothes.”

“I feel like that is gonna be a lot less fun without you,” Ellie says. She realizes she’s gripping Cat’s shirt.

Cat laughs once, short. “Uh, yeah. Probably.” She removes her hands reluctantly, like she’s putting down dessert to go eat vegetables, and disappears into Ellie’s bathroom.

“Fuck,” Ellie blurts, once she’s alone.

\--

Dressed and a little drier, Ellie brings a pair of socks to the couch to put them on. “You alive in there?” she calls.

Cat immediately opens the door, her cheeks a little pink. “Hey,” she says, coming to sit on the far side of the couch.

“Um, sorry,” Ellie starts, “I didn’t mean to be, like, pushy, or anything.”

“It’s fine, you weren’t,” Cat says, waving it off. “I was just… I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want to rush? And ruin things?”

Ellie sits with one leg up and wraps her arms around it. “Yeah,” she says, trying to follow.

Cat draws her feet up to sit cross-legged. “I don’t know. This is just… new.” She smiles. “I don’t want to jinx it.”

“Yeah.” Ellie smiles at her. “Me neither.”

\--

“Do you need to, like, tell your mom where you are?” Ellie asks, realizing they never went back to Cat’s, after everything.

Cat shrugs. “I caught her on her way to work this morning.”

Ellie tries to imagine how different her life would be if Joel knew every time she left the house. “… And?”

“It’s fine.” Cat looks up at Ellie’s face, then back at her sketch, concentrating.

“It’s fine,” Ellie repeats, skeptical.

Cat smirks without looking up. “Ellie, my mom knows.”

Ellie feels her blood run cold for a second. “Knows what?”

Cat rolls her eyes. “She knows. About us. I told her I liked you a long time ago.”

Ellie sits up straighter, racing to make sense of all that new information. “How did you tell her about us when I don’t even know what we are right now?”

“Well—I guess not, like, _about us_ , per se.” Cat erases something on the page. “I just told her that I kissed you and you freaked out and we ended up hanging out and talking all day. And that I fell asleep watching your boring ass movie.”

Ellie stares. “You told her all that?”

Cat smirks. “Well, yeah. I mean, mostly I talk to you about everything, so I have to talk about you to someone else,” she says, like it’s the most obvious, self-evident thing in the world.

“Huh.” Ellie leans her arm against the back of the couch to prop her head up.

“Quit moving.”

“Sorry.” She moves back. “… You liked me a long time ago?”

Cat smirks again. “Is that so surprising?”

“I guess not.” Ellie flips back in her mind—all the times they almost kissed and Ellie pulled back, afraid of infecting her. Wasted time, apparently. Just like with Riley.

“It shouldn’t be. I’m pretty sure you liked me a long time ago, too.”

Ellie peers at her, curious. “Oh yeah? Pretty sure?”

Cat looks at her, then sets her sketchbook and pencil on the table. “Yeah. You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ellie says, blustering a little.

Cat smirks, that smug, knowing smile of hers. “Ellie, I’m pretty sure you stared at me for half of every single bonfire we’ve both been at.”

Ellie opens her mouth to reply, then shuts it. “Okay… that’s fair.”

Cat shakes her head, then tips forward onto her hands and knees, crawling across the cushions to sit on her heels right next to Ellie. “How come you never did anything?” she asks.

Ellie takes a deep breath, looking back and forth between Cat’s eyes, so pretty and deep. She considers, turning the answer over in her mind, uncertain how to translate it.

“I guess I was scared of what would happen,” Ellie says slowly. “And, I mean, I didn’t even know if you liked…” She gestures between them.

A smile spreads slowly across Cat’s face. She cups Ellie’s face in her hands and slots her knees over Ellie’s hips, saying, “I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you are a real big idiot.”

Ellie smirks. “Is that supposed to—” she says, into Cat kissing her.

\--

After a few minutes, Ellie gets tired of craning her neck. She places her hands on Cat’s waist and carefully rises, leaning Cat onto her back against the cushions. Cat makes that happy, contented buzz against Ellie’s lips, running her hands down Ellie’s flank, her fingers slipping against Ellie’s skin under the edge of her shirt. Ellie settles her weight, bracing her hands on either side of Cat, and Cat breaks the kiss with a quiet gasp.

“Too much?” Ellie asks, hesitating.

Cat shakes her head, hard. “No—” She takes a fistful of Ellie’s t-shirt. “No, not too much.”

At that moment, Ellie’s stomach grumbles, loud.

They both stare for a moment; then Cat busts out laughing, and Ellie buries her head in Cat’s shoulder. “Fuck, that’s embarrassing,” she groans.

Cat taps Ellie’s shoulder. “You want to take a break and get something to eat?”

Ellie lifts up enough to look at Cat, suspicious. “You mean like go out?” She’s thinking what food she still has from the market the other day.

“Yeah,” Cat says shyly, “like a date,” and Ellie can’t really argue with that.

\--

The diner isn’t exactly empty, but most of the people are eating at the bar. Cat takes Ellie’s hand—just like that, so simply—and pulls her to an open booth near the back. Cat keeps Ellie’s hand when she sits down, pulling her onto the same bench, close beside her.

It actually feels nicer than Ellie ever imagined, on the rare occasion she’d imagine it. She doesn’t even care that she’s blushing like crazy. She drums her fingers nervously on the table, but presses her knee against Cat’s under the table, purposeful and firm. Cat looks up at her and smiles.

“I like being out with you,” Cat confides quietly. She touches Ellie’s knee.

“What can I get ya,” says Seth, appearing suddenly at the table. His bug eyes scrape pointedly across the two of them, and then over the narrow gap between them.

“The special,” Ellie says back, frowning at him.

Cat holds up two fingers and says, “Two specials,” cheerfully, like Seth isn’t glaring at them.

Ellie watches as he walks away. He bumps shoulders with Maria at the bar and seems to say something to her, but she just waves him off.

“Relax,” Cat whispers.

“I am rela—”

“Hey!”

They look over to see Jesse, walking toward them with Dina in tow.

“Sometimes this town is way too small,” Cat whispers in the few seconds before their friends close the distance.

“You guys just get here?” Jesse’s asking, leaning his elbow on the open side of the booth.

“Um, yeah, like a second ago,” Ellie says. She takes in Dina’s withdrawn expression.

Jesse gestures to the open seats. “Mind if we join you?”

“Sure,” Cat says. Her hand goes to Ellie’s knee again, under the table.

“Awesome! I’ll go get drinks?” he says, ushering Dina onto the bench. “Beers?” He points to all of them, then flashes two thumbs up when no one vetoes. “Great, be right back.”

“Did you get dried off okay?” Dina says. With her delivery, there’s no missing the double entendre.

“Obviously,” Ellie mutters, crossing her arms and setting them on the table.

Cat’s hand goes to her back, casually, and in an instant, Ellie sees Dina see it. Sees the calculation being made. Dina’s eyes flash when she looks at Ellie again.

“You were just so dramatic about it,” she says. Her teasing has a lot more teeth than usual. “I thought you were gonna have to go to medical.”

Ellie scratches her ear. “Man, maybe I _will_ just stay in group patrol, if getting promoted makes you such a dick.”

Dina flares a little, angrily, then looks between Ellie and Cat and slowly deflates. “What’d you get up to after work?” she asks, with less hostility.

“Just hung out,” Ellie answers for them both, maybe a touch too quickly. “And Cat helped me do this, like, antibacterial tattoo thing.”

Dina looks at Ellie’s tattoo, then at Cat’s. As she opens her mouth to say something, Jesse shows up with beers for everyone.

“How come Seth just lets you order beers?” Ellie asks. “He’s always such a dick about it to me.”

“I think it’s my soulful eyes,” Jesse says with mock sincerity, nudging Dina over so he can sit beside her.

Ellie snorts. “Oh, is that it.”

“Yeah, same reason you’re gonna actually agree to come to the lake with us tomorrow,” Jesse eggs, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, I don’t…”

Dina smirks. “Told ya,” she says, sitting forward to start on her drink.

“We’ll go,” says Cat, matching Dina’s movements.

Ellie and Dina both look at Cat in surprise at the same time. “We will?” asks Ellie.

Cat shrugs and smiles, just at Ellie. “Why not? It’s not a big deal as long as your arm doesn’t get wet.”

“Perfect,” says Jesse, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “Settled.”

\--

After dinner, both Cat and Jesse excuse themselves to go home, Cat to her mom and Jesse to his parents. Ellie and Dina peel off, both heading home in the same direction, leaving the warmth of the group in favor of an awkward silence.

Ellie waits for Dina to ask about Cat, or at least say something snide, but Dina says nothing for a whole block. Eventually, she drifts closer to Ellie and links their arms, like nothing has changed.

“I’m gonna miss you on patrol,” Dina says, out of nowhere.

Ellie rubs her face against her shoulder to scratch an itch. “I’m not going anywhere,” she says uncertainly. “And someday I’m gonna be on pairs, too. I hope.”

“You know what I mean,” Dina pushes.

Ellie doesn’t say anything. She knows what Dina means, but it seems like an overreaction.

“Jesse told me the dumbest joke today,” Dina says, just a few minutes from the street where they’ll part ways.

Ellie can’t help but smile. She swats a bug out of her face. “Tell me.”

“Okay, you ready?” Dina draws a deep, performative breath. “Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.”

Ellie snorts. “That’s so dumb.”

“Yeah. Therefore, I thought of you.”

“You’re such a dick.” Ellie bites her lip, seeing the split coming up fast. “Do you… actually want me to come to the lake tomorrow with you guys?”

Dina looks at her. “Sure. It’ll be fun.”

Ellie frowns, trying and failing to read her expression.

They reach the split. “See you later,” Dina says. She unlinks their arms and walks away.

\--

Ellie’s apartment feels quiet and empty with just her there. The evening sun lights the room in sharp gashes, orange and eerie. There’s a pile of damp clothes near the door and couch pillows on the floor. No other evidence that anything is different, anything has changed. She hasn’t really been alone here since Cat kissed her, a day and a half ago.

Ellie looks at her arm and touches the fern leaves, tracing the ridged skin, just starting to heal. Proof.

\--

After she hangs the damp, wrinkled clothes up in the tub to dry, Ellie brings her journal to the couch. Writing what happened feels like another piece of proof, proof of the unbelievable: Ellie isn’t contagious, and she isn’t alone in what she feels.

At the bottom of the entry, she smiles to herself and adds, _What a fucking rollercoaster!_

She rereads the words a few times, then adds two more exclamation points and tosses the journal and pen on the table. Craning her neck behind her, she can just barely get her hand around the neck of her guitar.

She has to sit up to play, and she starts with the chord warmup Joel taught her way back, just to get the blood flowing. Then, almost on their own, her hands start to play that song, the song she thinks of when she thinks of Cat, the song she imagines Cat listening to on headphones in her red-curtained room, drawing in her sketchbook or staring at the ceiling.

She’s alone, and not really practicing, so the song loops back and around on itself, verses mixing together, the chorus going on longer.

She’s playing the chorus again—“ _I want you to show me_ ”—a little more into it than she’d like to admit—when there’s a knock on the door.

As she says, “Come in,” the door opens, and Joel pokes his head inside.

The adrenaline aborts and Ellie sits back against the couch. “You really need to work on knocking,” she says, shaking her head.

“I did knock.” Joel comes in and shuts the door.

“Yeah, but you’re supposed to wait for an answer before you just come in.”

He puts his hands half up in surrender. “Okay, my mistake.”

Ellie puts her foot up against the coffee table and strums absently. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to say hey. Been a little while.”

It has been a while. Ellie chews her lip, feeling guilty. “Yeah, I guess,” she stalls.

Joel starts pacing aimlessly, his hands in his pockets. “Sounds like your playing’s really coming along.”

“Oh, were you listening to that?” Ellie asks. Her space feels private and isolated, safe, until someone knocks on the door. Her hands go still on the strings.

Joel smiles at her. “It’s a compliment,” he says pointedly.

Ellie looks down at the guitar. “Just didn’t know anyone was listening,” she mumbles.

“Hey, some of your best playing is gonna be when you’re alone,” he says. He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “When you aren’t so worried what everyone is thinking.”

Ellie snorts softly. “You’re tellin’ me.”

Joel leans against Ellie’s desk, the space between them a little too wide, a little awkward. “Heard you went and played for some of your friends at a bonfire,” he says, saying _friends_ weird.

“Yeah, like six months ago.” Ellie folds her arm over the guitar, hooking her left hand over the neck.

Joel chews on that for a second. “Yeah, well,” he says, in that Joel way. The silence stretches. Joel scratches his beard. “What’s on your arm?”

Ellie looks down. The ribs of the fern are visible where they stretch up onto her thumb. “Um, a tattoo?” she says, accidentally making it a question. She uncurls her arm, palm up, to show the moth.

Joel blinks in surprise. But maybe he remembers them fighting about the burn, forever ago, because he acts a lot more cool this time, stroking his beard and saying, “Huh, didn’t know they even did those around here.”

Ellie swallows. Her instinct is still to shut things down, tie things off, but something about tonight makes her fight that urge. Joel’s here, in her room, just to say hi. Trying. The only person who ever cared about her enough to stay. If Cat can tell her mom everything—apparently _everything_ —can’t Ellie at least try?

She clears her throat and runs her fingers over the ink. “Um, they don’t, really. I… found a tattoo gun on patrol. Cat’s been wanting one, so I gave it to her and…” Her voice dwindles. How does Cat just open her mouth and say everything, just like that?

Joel walks over, almost cautiously. He keeps his arms folded, but he bends over a bit to look closer. “Looks pretty neat,” he offers.

Shit must really be topsy-turvy if Joel is more supportive about this than Dina was.

It lends Ellie some courage. “Cat wanted one to cover up a scar. I… didn’t really like mine, either.”

“Huh.”

Ellie wants to say more, wants to want to say more, but nothing else comes. “It’s not done yet,” she adds, eyeing the nakedness, the plainness of the lines.

“Sure, sure,” Joel says, rubbing his neck.

Awkwardly, Ellie tucks her arm back in over the guitar. She checks Joel’s face, but he’s looking around the room, not at her.

“Did you—”

“So listen,” Joel says, then cuts short. “Sorry, go ahead.”

“No, you go.”

He strokes his beard again. “I was just gonna ask what, um, what you wanted for your birthday. I ain’t found any more dinosaurs, but we could go camping if you wanted, maybe. Or if you’d rather hang out with your friends, that’s fine, too.”

Ellie looks up at him, considering. “Uh, maybe we could just like, hang out and play guitar that night,” she suggests.

Joel looks at her and smiles. “We can do that,” he says, hooking his thumbs in his belt. “We can do that.”


	9. New Life

After work, Jesse sticks to her on her way to the stables. “You’re still coming, right?” he asks, waving over her shoulder at Chad.

“Yeah,” Ellie says, although she’s still not sure she actually wants to go.

Jesse cups his hands around his mouth, aims at someone near the gate, and yells, “Where’s Dina?”

The older guy gestures behind him as he dismounts. Then Japan’s nose shows through the gate, and then Dina on his back, trotting their way.

“Who all is even going?” Ellie grumbles, regretting her decision more and more. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Cat coming up to the gate again. Her heart swells for a second before she realizes Cat is also waving at Jesse, and the rest of their friends, not just Ellie.

Jesse’s passing equipment off to the stable helpers, only half paying attention. “Uh, us, Dina, Chad, Cat, maybe Andre…”

Chad and Dina catch up, talking with Jesse and Amara and handing over guns and trading stories, so Ellie drifts away from the group to see Cat at the gate.

“Hey,” Ellie says, leaning on the fence. She wants to lean over and kiss Cat hello, but it feels a little too new, or too scary.

Cat smiles at her and leans on her side, placing one hand on top of Ellie’s. “Hey, you,” she says, her face bright and sun-warm. Her bangs are damp with sweat, and her skin glistens at her collarbone, visible under the wide neck of her shirt.

“You ready to go?” Ellie asks, unnecessarily. Cat has her backpack on and the group is clearly meeting here to head out.

“Super ready.” Cat looks at their hands and swipes her thumb over Ellie’s wrist, where the smallest fern leaves follow the tendon to her thumb.

As usual, Jesse’s voice summons them: “Let’s go!”

\--

Today, Ellie hikes at the back with Cat, their hands clasped loosely most of the way, separating and reconnecting when the trail gets rocky or steep.

For once, Ellie doesn’t really keep track of whether Dina’s looking back at them or not.

\--

Most of the group is excited to go swimming by the time they reach the lake, so soon it’s just Ellie and Cat, lingering by the circle of logs with the pile of abandoned backpacks.

“Do you wanna swim too?” Ellie asks, their friends whooping and hollering out in the water.

Cat looks out at the lake, her hands on her hips. “I can’t swim with mine yet, either. But it might be nice to get our hair wet.”

“Good idea. It’s fuckin’ hot out.”

Cat turns to Ellie and smiles, stepping into her, kissing her briefly. Ellie’s cheeks flush and she glances left, but their friends aren’t paying attention.

Cat links their hands again and starts toward the lake. “Come on!”

\--

Ellie follows Cat back to the logs, both of them wringing their hair out. Ellie reties her short ponytail while Cat lies gracefully on one of the logs, languid as her namesake. Ellie stalls for a moment, watching Cat’s shirt bunch at her waist and shoulders, Cat’s fingers rolling the waistband of her shorts. She walks to the far end and sits sideways, one knee at either side of Cat’s head.

Cat lets her eyes drift closed, one hand feeling blindly for Ellie’s knee.

“How are you wearing jeans right now?” Cat asks, smirking. Her nail scrapes a rip in the fabric, feeling the threads stretched tight across Ellie’s kneecap.

“I’m magic,” Ellie jokes. She doesn’t really want to admit that she thinks her legs look scrawny in shorts.

Cat’s eyes crack open, squinting in the dappled sunlight. “Can I tell you a secret?” Cat asks quietly, her fingers moving to the soft underside of Ellie’s knee.

“Sure,” Ellie says, brushing Cat’s wet bangs flat against her forehead.

“I kind of wish we hadn’t come along.” Cat smiles and blushes a little. “We could just be making out at your place right now.”

Ellie laughs. “See, that’s a good point. I’ll remember that next time you try to volunteer us for group activities.”

“Something you wanna share with the class?” asks Jesse, walking back in from the lake, water streaming from his hair and soaked shorts. Ellie freezes up a little, seeing Jesse see them, seeing Chad and Dina and the rest, everyone glancing between the two of them.

Cat just puts her free hand behind her head, tilting it up to see better. “Just laughing at you guys being idiots,” she says. “Taking bets on who drowns first.”

“Careful,” Jesse warns good-naturedly, “that’s the kind of smack talk that gets you dunked in the lake.”

Cat laughs, sitting up. “Please don’t.” She settles close to Ellie, one arm leaned on Ellie’s leg, so casual, so easy.

Candice wrings out her hair over the sand. “Have we been here long enough for me to ask about breaking out the booze?” She looks at Jesse, the usual supplier.

“Actually, Dina’s our hookup today,” Jesse says, almost proud. Dina’s pulled a t-shirt over the bra she swam in, but she leaves her legs bare. She drags her backpack over and pulls out a mason jar of joints, shaking it triumphantly like a prize.

Andre grabs the jar, excited. “Where’d you get that?”

“It’s a secret,” Dina says, sharing a pointed, private smile with Jesse.

Ellie turns back to Cat.

\--

At one point, Dina climbs all the way into Jesse’s lap, drumming up hoots from the rest of the circle. Almost in response, Cat slips her arm around Ellie’s waist, leaning into her, head on her shoulder.

Ellie turns to look at her, smiling drowsily. “How high are you right now?” she whispers.

Cat kisses her.

\--

By the time they get back to Ellie’s, dark is falling. They don’t really discuss it, but Cat makes no move to head home, and Ellie doesn’t want to give her the idea.

“I had fun today,” Cat says as they drop their bags and shut the door. The garage is dark and cool inside, the windows faintly gray with twilight.

“Me too.” Ellie stretches and scrubs her hands over her face. “All that sun made me tired.”

“Really?” Ellie turns, and Cat’s eyes are barely visible, glittering in the darkness. She presses her palm hot and flat against Ellie’s side. “How tired?”

Ellie swallows. “Not… that tired,” she amends. Cat kisses her again, deeper than at the lake. Her teeth catch Ellie’s lip.

Ellie finds Cat’s waist, runs her hands across it and up to Cat’s spine, pulling, eclipsing the space between them. Cat turns them, and Ellie doesn’t realize why until her back is against the door, Cat pressing against her, powerful and fluid.

When they surface for air, Ellie pants, “I thought you were trying to take things slow.”

“I thought about it some more,” Cat says, like they’re having a normal conversation and not halfway to devouring each other.

“Did you?”

“Yeah, and I think that was stupid and I don’t want to do it anymore.”

Ellie laughs and Cat stamps hot kisses against her throat and Ellie mumbles, “Fuck, okay then.”

\--

It’s Ellie who leads Cat over to the bed, but it’s Cat who pulls Ellie’s shirt off. “Is this okay?” Cat tries to ask. Ellie pulls Cat’s off instead of replying. Even then it doesn’t feel real until Cat lies against her again, their bare bellies sliding together, Cat grabbing Ellie’s belt loops and hipbones.

This feeling is new. Ellie feels alive, animal, aware of herself in a way she’s never been before: her breath short, her blood molten, her pulse slogging low between her legs. She runs her hands up Cat’s ribs, fingertips sliding under the edge of her bra. Cat breaks off to open it at the back and drop it, a snakeskin shed on the floor, and Ellie ducks her mouth to Cat’s breast, and it sure fucking feels real _now_.

“Fuck,” Cat mutters, one hand in Ellie’s hair, one scrabbling at her back.

Ellie drags her nails down Cat’s stomach, feeling it quiver. “Do you—should I stop—?” she manages, her breath hot and close, her fingers caught on Cat’s waistband.

Cat shakes her head and pulls Ellie back up to kiss her. Ellie’s not sure what that means until Cat pushes her hand down. Emboldened, Ellie slips under the elastic and flips her hand and enters a new world, warm skin and wet heat, and Cat fucking moans into her mouth and Ellie all but dies on the spot.

“There,” Cat whispers suddenly, gripping Ellie’s hair so tight it hurts, and _there_ becomes Ellie’s entire universe, tracing smaller and smaller circles, guided by Cat gasping and grasping beneath her. Finally Cat contracts and shudders, her face buried in Ellie’s shoulder, and then tugs Ellie’s wrist out gently.

Ellie stares, awed and humbled. “Was that…” she tries to ask, her throat raw and dry.

Cat laughs a little, her eyes bright in the gathering dark. “Yeah,” she says softly, touching Ellie’s shoulders, her neck. “Come here.”

She lowers Ellie against her again, kissing her slowly, lazily, turning Ellie down from a boil to a simmer. Ellie barely notices when Cat maneuvers her down onto the bed, Cat lying half over her, her hand drifting aimlessly across Ellie’s bared skin. Cat tilts her head to drag her mouth along Ellie’s jaw. Eyes shut, Ellie feels Cat open the button and zipper of her jeans and then hesitate.

“Ellie…” Cat starts, right in her ear.

“Fuck, yes,” Ellie says back, too impatient to wait for a question. Her hips press up as Cat pushes her jeans open and slides her hand flat down Ellie’s stomach and down to—

“Fuck,” Ellie says again, and then Cat _does_ , swiping her thumb at the same time. Ellie bites her lip hard enough to taste blood, writhing, her hands searching for something to hold on to. Cat locks her hips over Ellie’s to hold her still. Then for one long, fragile moment, one inhale, everything is perfect.

\--

Cat goes still, and when Ellie opens her eyes, Cat is hovering there, watching her carefully. She withdraws her hand to lie flat, her palm resting sure and solid between Ellie’s clothes and her too-hot skin. “Hey,” Ellie says, stupidly.

Cat smiles at her. “Hey.”

“Was that… okay?” Ellie touches Cat’s back, lean and bare.

“Yeah,” Cat half laughs. Her body settles against Ellie, warm and soft and alive, her hand drifting up to rest on Ellie’s chest. It smells like—Ellie, she guesses, surprised. “Yeah, doofus, that was okay.” She rubs her cheek against Ellie’s shoulder.

Ellie exhales and smiles. “I mean, you’re the one who wanted to take things slow, like, one day ago.”

Cat laces their legs together. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

\--

Cat leaves early to catch her mom before work, wearing a pair of Ellie’s old shorts from before she wore jeans all year round. Ellie stops by her desk to write— _something_ in her journal, something because surely this is the kind of thing you have to immortalize in a journal if you keep one, but she just ends up writing that Cat is the fucking best. Because she is. What else is there to say, really?

\--

Even though Dina’s been a dick lately, having group patrol without her is a lot less fun. Ellie even lets Chad lead the way through a crumbling gas station, taking more kills than her and being a huge pain in the ass about it.

All Ellie wants to do is get home and see Cat.

\--

“So, don’t be mad, but I kind of have to go home after dinner,” Cat says while Ellie flips the sandwich in the skillet.

Ellie looks over her shoulder, pushing the spatula flat against the bread. “Okay,” she says evenly.

“I think my mom was a little, like, surprised, that I slept over last night.” Cat tucks her hair behind her ear.

Ellie turns around and leans back against the counter. “Is everything okay?” she asks, guarded.

Cat smiles a little and comes over, looping her arms over Ellie’s shoulders. “Yes, everything’s okay,” she echoes. “She just had that look of, like, ‘Oh crap, my only kid is growing up way faster than I realized,’ like, parent panic.”

“What did you tell her?” Ellie asks, trying not to sound alarmed.

Cat narrows her eyes and smiles. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her we had _sex_ ,” she says, hissing the last word in Ellie’s ear.

“I don’t know!” Ellie protests, laughing and rolling her eyes. “You said you tell her, like, everything!”

“I mean, she’s still my _mom_ ,” Cat says, laughing too.

Ellie rests her hands on Cat’s waist. “So what did you tell her then?”

“I might have started a pretty strong precedent of you picking super boring movies to watch.”

Ellie snorts. “So you might as well have told her we had sex, is what you’re saying.”

Cat rolls her eyes and laughs. “I guess when you put it that way… yeah. But it’s not like she’s gonna be weird about it. She knows I’m, like, a person, not a little kid.”

Ellie considers that, trying to imagine ever having a normal interaction with Cat’s mom after this.

“Ellie,” Cat says, shaking her shoulders gently. “Don’t go catatonic on me. It’s not a big deal.”

“If you say so.” Ellie still feels uncertain.

Cat smiles at her. “How about tomorrow you come to me after work? You’ll see. My mom really likes you. It’ll be totally fine.”

\--

Cat takes her plate and waits for Ellie to sit on the couch, then sits half on top of her, her legs in Ellie’s lap. Ellie bites her lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

“Did you always know you were gay?” Cat asks in her open, artless way.

Ellie blinks at her. “What do you mean?”

Cat smiles and furrows her brow. “Are there, like, multiple ways to interpret that question?”

Ellie turns back to her sandwich and takes a bite. “Um. I mean, I never thought I was anything else, really. Like, the first person I liked was a girl.”

“So you never liked a guy, ever?”

Ellie laughs.

Cat smirks. “Guess that’s a no?”

Ellie shakes her head, still laughing. “Big no.” She looks at Cat, curious. “You?”

“Not really.” Cat crosses her legs at the ankle, careful not to tip Ellie’s plate. “Honestly, it’s been a long time since I liked anyone but you.”

“Yeah,” Ellie says, looking at Cat, her gentle, open expression, her deep eyes, soft heart. Ellie smiles. "Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> usually more of a "fade to black" writer but this is a coming of age story and well... it's relevant.


	10. Hell Is Other People

Ellie isn’t sure quite what she expected, but it definitely wasn’t Cat’s mom acting exactly the same way she did before.

Cat’s the one who lets Ellie inside, giving her a full once-over. “You look nice,” she says.

“Thanks,” Ellie says, following her inside.

“Come on, my mom’s in the kitchen,” Cat says.

Ellie takes a deep breath through her nose. “It smells good in here,” she says, curious. “Are you guys cooking?”

“In here!” Cat’s mom calls over the sound of sizzling on the stove.

“Yeah,” Cat says. She leans in to Ellie and whispers, “She must be excited because she dug out the kimchi to eat with dinner.”

“The…?”

Ellie trails off when Cat’s mom turns around, smiling at her. “Come in! Dinner’s almost ready.”

There are two pans on the stove, one pot on a pad on the counter, and a stack of three plates. On the table is a large earthenware jug with a mason jar beside it with a stack of bowls. Cat goes over to the jug and starts ladling something bright orange into the mason jar.

“Can I, um, help with anything?” Ellie asks. She’s never seen so much activity for one meal before. It’s been a long time since she saw anyone else even cooking a meal in a kitchen, since Joel cooks like he’s still on the road, and the kitchen in the diner is separate from the washing station.

“Oh, no, dear, just have a seat at the table,” Cat’s mom says, waving her off and doing something with one of the pans. Ellie catches Cat’s eye as she sits.

Cat hooks the ladle on the rim of the jug and closes the mason jar tightly. “Saving some for tomorrow night,” she explains, stepping away to tuck the jar into the refrigerator. She returns and ladles a fist-sized serving of the orange stuff carefully into each bowl. “This is the kimchi,” she adds, belatedly. She looks at Ellie and her eyes flash with excitement. “We save it for special occasions.”

“It’s not quite my mother’s kimchi,” says Cat’s mom behind her, “since, you know, ingredients here are a little more limited than in the old days. But I think it tastes pretty good.”

“I think it tastes _great_ ,” Cat gushes, leaning over to nudge her mom with an elbow.

“No need to butter me up. Come get your plates.”

Cat’s mom carefully piles cooked veggies on each plate, crowning each pile with a perfect fried egg. Ellie follows Cat to the table; Cat sets a bowl in front of her, then picks up the earthenware jug and disappears out the back door.

Cat’s mom flips off all the burners and sits down across from Ellie with a breath of relief. “I’m so glad you came for dinner,” she says, setting a napkin and two thin metal sticks on the table next to Ellie’s plate. Cat comes back in and her mom gestures to her: “Can you get water for everybody?”

“Um, of course, thanks for inviting me,” Ellie says. She watches Cat pull out three glasses, fill them with water, and set them on the table.

Cat goes to sit down, then stops and goes back to a drawer. She returns and puts a fork on Ellie’s plate.

“Oh, that was silly of me,” Cat’s mom says, laughing at herself.

Ellie watches Cat and her mom each pick up the chopsticks. “I only ever saw these in movies,” Ellie says, ignoring the fork and gamely trying to balance the sticks in one hand.

“They take a little practice,” Cat says. She scoots her chair closer and starts eating, her arm bumping Ellie’s carelessly, intimately. Ellie’s eyes flash across the table, but Cat’s mom is focused on the food.

“How was patrol today?” Cat’s mom asks her.

Ellie looks pointedly at her plate, fumbling the chopsticks closed around a piece of broccoli. “It was fine. It was really a first aid class, today.”

“That’s good.” Cat’s mom nods in approval. “Good they’re being responsible. Those are important skills if they’re going to let you kids go out there on your own.”

“Mom,” Cat warns.

Ellie looks between them; Cat’s mom just shrugs. “You’re still kids to me, Catherine.”

Ellie clears her throat. “This food is really good. No wonder you guys never go to the diner.”

Cat smiles. “Yeah, Mom runs the best restaurant in town.”

Cat’s mom waves off the compliment. “I just like cooking for you. Gives us a chance to catch up.” She smiles the same big, happy smile Cat has, the one that wrinkles her nose at the top. Cat’s mom is probably a perfect portrait of what Cat will look like in twenty years.

The first bite of kimchi is powerful, almost pungent. Ellie’s not sure she likes it, but it’s so refreshing to experience a new flavor, she goes right to the next piece.

“It’s good, right, babe?”

Ellie looks up in surprise. Cat smiles at her, excited, warm. Ellie swallows.

“It’s perfect.”

\--

“See, I told you it was fine.” Cat shuts the door behind them.

Ellie’s eyes linger on the bed, the spot where everything changed, just a few days ago. Maybe a lifetime ago. “Yeah, okay, she was pretty cool.”

“Thank you.” Cat slides her arms around Ellie’s waist from behind. “Does that mean you’ll finally stop being weird about it?”

“I am not being weird about it,” Ellie protests, laughing. “I just… you know…”

Cat’s face presses against Ellie’s back, at the base of her neck. “Uh huh, I know.” She lets go and drifts to her desk, then beckons Ellie over to sit next to her on the bed. She has the Walkman in her hand, one earbud held out.

Ellie sinks down beside her and puts the earbud in. Cat puts in the other and lays down, pulling Ellie with her by the cord. Cat hooks one leg over Ellie’s and presses Play. In their ears, the tape plays out the tinny opening notes, the same ones Ellie plays on her guitar when she’s alone.

\--

Surprisingly, it’s Jesse who reminds Ellie it’s her birthday.

He assigns himself as her partner on paired patrol practice, and as their horses fall into step together beyond the ridge, he says, “Happy birthday, by the way.”

Ellie blinks, then looks at him. “How’d you know that?”

Jesse shrugs. “I have my ways,” he says, making a point of sounding dramatic and mysterious. When Ellie just looks at him suspiciously, he laughs and shrugs. “Dina told me I should think about switching up the curriculum and doing paired patrols today, as a birthday favor to _you_.”

“Oh.” Ellie chews on that for a moment. It’s been days since she even caught sight of Dina, even at the stables before patrol. “Well, that was nice of you.”

“What can I say? I’m a nice guy.” He leads them around a corner and points. “We’re going out to the treehouse today.”

“I figured.” The treehouse is the baby route they use for group patrol.

They ride in silence for a bit, the horses picking around heaps of old cars, splashing through a brook.

“How are things with Cat?”

Ellie looks up sharply, but all she sees is his backpack and shoulders. His voice sounds even and normal.

“Uh…”

“They must be pretty good,” he teases, slowing his horse a little to look over his shoulder. “She called you her girlfriend yesterday.”

“She—she did?”

Jesse laughs and turns onto the horse trail. “She did.” When Ellie doesn’t say anything, he looks over his shoulder again. “Things are okay with her, right? I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ellie says in a rush, “things are good, I just didn’t know… I guess I didn’t think about it. Like, that she would call me that.”

Jesse slows to a stop on the turn. He looks at her, serious. “Did I mess up?”

“No! No. We just hadn’t, like… had that conversation, yet,” she says lamely.

Jesse watches her for one more moment, making sure she’s not lying to spare his feelings, then snorts and nudges his horse back into motion. “Sounds to me like she’s ready to skip the conversation part.”

Ellie worries the reins in her hands. “You can say that again.”

\--

“Here we are.” Jesse slips off his horse and loops the reins around the top of a bike rack.

Ellie follows suit, then walks with him up to the treehouse ladder. He starts climbing, and while she waits for him to clear the bottom half, she says, “Are you, like, weirded out by this?”

Jesse looks down at her between the ladder and his arm. “By… what, putting a lookout in a treehouse?”

“No!” Ellie climbs up after him; at the top, he’s at the open window, leaning on the sill. She comes up next to him, picking at the flaking paint with her nail. “By…” She bites her lip and looks aside. “By, like, me and Cat, dude.”

She can feel him staring at her, steadily, the way he does when he wants to say something sincere and make serious eye contact while he does it. She slowly works her gaze back over to him. Jesse shakes his head slowly. “No. No, I am not weirded out by you guys.”

Ellie bites her lip and then a laugh busts out, out of nowhere. She twists her shoulders, looking down and scuffing her shoe. “Okay. That’s cool.”

Jesse straightens up and tugs his shirt like it has a collar. “Yeah, well. I’m pretty cool.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Ellie smirks, shoves his shoulder, and heads to the logbook.

\--

Cat’s back on farm rotation, so she isn’t at the gate when Ellie and Jesse get back. Ellie walks home on her own and blinks in surprise at the figure leaning against her front door: Joel, idly strumming his guitar.

“Hey, happy birthday, kiddo,” he says when he sees her. He looks a little apologetic. “One of your lil’ friends was here, but she run off. I think maybe I scared her away.”

Joel glanced off toward town when he said _run off_ , and Ellie looks off that way, too. “Um, don’t worry about it,” she says, wondering who it was, and what Joel said. She lets them both inside.

“I figured I would catch you after work and maybe cook you some food after.” He sets the body of the guitar down gently and leans on the head like a cane.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she says, distracted, dumping her bag on her desk and stopping at the kitchen sink to put cold water on her face. Girlfriend, Jesse said. And somehow Jesse knew first?

Joel’s voice disrupts her thoughts. “You still wanna play tonight?”

Ellie looks at him. Joel looks much more relaxed, these days. His burdens don’t seem so heavy. His busted watch catches the sunlight, jagged and fractured.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Ellie puts a smile on.

\--

Maybe an hour in, where Joel interrupts her over and over to correct small details in her form or needle her about using a pick instead of her thumb, they’re interrupted by a knock.

Joel nods at the door, so Ellie answers it, and it’s Cat, smiling shyly.

Ellie pulls the door against her shoulder instinctively, blocking the sightline between Cat and Joel.

“Hey,” she breathes.

“Happy birthday, jerk,” Cat says quietly, grinning wide. “How come you didn’t tell me?”

Ellie’s not sure. “I just… forgot, honestly. I didn’t even remember it was today.”

Cat rolls her eyes. “Thank goodness I bumped into Joel, or else I would never have even found out.”

Ellie snorts. “So you’re who he scared off.”

“Not scared,” Cat corrects. She reaches into her bag and pulls out what looks like a piece of paper, biting her lip shyly. “I wanted something to give you.”

“—Oh,” Ellie says. She starts to protest.

“Don’t start,” Cat stops her. She places the paper carefully in Ellie’s hands.

It’s a comic page. Of them.

“—Cat,” Ellie manages, totally floored. It’s a four-panel page, showing Cat, then Ellie, then the two of them, Cat delivering a bad pun. “This is incredible!”

“I didn’t have as much time as I wanted, since I didn’t know your birthday was so soon,” she says.

“Don’t.” Ellie grabs her hand. “It’s perfect. I love it.”

Cat bites her lip again and smiles, swinging their hands a little. Her eyes go over Ellie’s shoulder, where Joel’s started picking notes on the strings again. “Well, um, I’ll let you get back to”—she gestures—“but, happy birthday, babe.”

Ellie’s ears burn. She’s glad Cat’s still talking quietly. “Thanks. Um, sorry about—I forgot to tell you, about our plans tonight. Can we hang out tomorrow?”

Cat smiles, warm, open. “Of course.”

\--

“That that friend of yours from before?” Joel asks.

“Yeah.” Ellie puts the comic page in her journal, careful not to smudge it. She knows Joel won’t touch it there. “Just dropping off a present. A, like, inside joke.”

“Huh.” She feels his eyes on her back, but doesn’t turn around. “Well,” he finally says, going back to the strings, “I’m glad you’re makin’ friends.”

\--

They play for a long time. Ellie doesn’t tell him about Cat.

\--

“Am I ever gonna finish group patrol?” she eventually asks, eating Joel’s not-quite-burnt pasta at his kitchen table.

“Now, don’t start with that,” he warns. “I told you I think you’re still a bit young for that.”

“It’s literally my birthday today. I’m literally less young, starting today.”

Joel shakes his head. “Summer’s too dangerous on patrol. Too many runners all excited by the heat. We can talk about it in the fall.”

Ellie shakes her head and aims her glare at her plate. “Fucking bullshit,” she mutters.

Joel pretends not to hear.

\--

“You’re so quiet today,” Cat says after a while. Ellie keeps staring upward, at the wind rustling the leaves way up above them. “You wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”

Ellie moves one hand to lay on her stomach, where she pinches the fabric of her shirt, anxiously. “I’m just kind of stressing about patrol stuff.”

“Hmm.” She can sense Cat’s hesitation. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Ellie shakes her head even as she says, “It’s Joel. I finally asked him about it and he just blew me off again.”

Cat turns half over to look at her. “What do you mean?”

Ellie gestures dismissively. “Like, I’ve been on group patrol longer than Dina was when she switched. I should be on pairs by now.”

Cat pauses, then lies back down. She’s quiet for a long moment. “Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” she says tentatively. “Isn’t group patrol safer?”

Ellie huffs. “I don’t want to be _safer_. I want to be, like, valuable. I’m a better shot than any of the newbies who’ve joined up since we got here. It’s just bullshit.”

“Maybe he’s just trying to keep something bad from happening to you.”

Ellie scoffs. “Little late for that,” she mutters. Her eyes slide to Cat. “For any of us, probably.”

Cat’s quiet. A bird calls across the lake. Cat looks almost conflicted—a look Ellie’s never seen on her before. Ellie turns toward her. “What is it?”

Cat shakes her head. “I’m sure he’ll let you move up eventually,” she says, her voice a little tight. “Just be patient. What’s your hurry, anyway?”

“I don’t know.” Ellie scratches her neck. “I just hate being treated like a kid. I _hate_ it.”

Cat turns to her, sympathetic. She reaches up to touch Ellie’s cheek. “I know, baby.”

Ellie looks at her, her calm, dark eyes. “I swear you’re like the only one in this whole fucking place who doesn’t act like I’m ten years old.”

Cat smiles at that. “Yeah. ‘Cause that would be creepy.”

Ellie laughs and crawls on top of her, saying, “Creepy, huh?” and tickling her neck with light kisses. Cat laughs, too.

\--

Ellie comes along with Cat to the market to help carry everything back for her and her mom. Waiting in line, watching the helpers pack produce into crates for carrying, Cat laces their fingers together and props her chin on Ellie’s shoulder, leaning on her heavily.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asks, laughing, while Cat slowly sinks more and more of her weight onto Ellie’s side.

“I think we entered a super gravity zone,” Cat says through her teeth, her chin jabbing hard in Ellie’s shoulder. “I’m going down—save me!”

Ellie laughs and moves her hand to Cat’s waist, trying to hold her up while Cat tries to fall down. “You are so impossible—it’s almost our turn—”

“Hey, you cut that out,” says Seth, suddenly there in the aisle beside the line, his eyes bulging.

Cat startles and straightens up immediately, stepping into and behind Ellie, inserting space between her and Seth. Ellie scowls at him. “What’s your issue?” she asks, calmer than she feels.

“This is a public space,” he says, jabbing a finger at the ground. “You’re old enough to behave like adults.”

The person in front of them in line turns to give Seth an uncomfortable glance. Seth’s nostrils flare once more and he storms off.

Cat and Ellie release a held breath at the same time. Ellie reaches back and links their hands together again, checking Cat’s face. “You okay?”

Cat nods, looking after Seth. “That was weird.”

“Yeah.” Ellie squeezes Cat’s hand and shifts her so Cat is next to the counter and Ellie is next to the path. “Whatever, fuck that guy,” Ellie mutters.

“Yeah,” Cat says, not quite managing to sound brave. “Fuck him.”

\--

On the way home from Cat’s, Ellie’s tracing the fern leaves on her arm when someone walks straight into her. She rebounds a step back and touches her smarting forehead. “Ow, sorry, uh—”

It’s Dina.

“Hey, um, sorry,” Dina says, looking everywhere but Ellie. “Distracted.”

“Hey—” Ellie hesitates. “Um, been a while. How, uh, how’s grown-up patrol treating you?”

Dina runs a hand through her hair, down her ponytail. “It’s good, it’s good.”

Ellie twists her hands together. “Where have you been?”

“Where have—?”

“I haven’t seen you in, like, weeks.”

Dina gestures vaguely. “Just been, you know, busy and everything. Work. You know.”

Ellie watches her uneasily. “Right. Well, we should, like, hang out sometime. Like, come by sometime when you’re free.”

Dina sighs. “Yeah.” She sounds sarcastic. “I’ll get right on that.”

“What d—”

“I’m late, actually,” she rushes. “I have to go. I’ll see you around.”

Before Ellie can say anything, Dina brushes past her and walks away.

\--

“Cat,” Ellie says one night, lying on Cat’s bed while Cat extends a tattoo on her forearm, “why’d you do the snake first? Like, what does it really mean?”

Cat keeps her eyes on her work, the sharp buzz of the tattoo gun filling the silence. “It’s for my dad,” she says after a long pause.

Ellie props up on her elbows and waits. Cat wets her lips and takes a second to dab the skin clean. “He’s what you would probably call a fucking asshole. I guess maybe he was okay before the outbreak, but by the time I showed up, he was totally out of his mind.”

“Jesus,” Ellie says quietly. She slowly reaches her hand out to touch Cat’s knee.

Cat adjusts her grip on the gun. “He kind of kept us safe for a while, but he was totally unpredictable. We’d find somewhere to hole up, then it was like anything could set him off. By the end he was scarier than the infected. He wigged out on us one time while we were scavenging supplies and a clicker almost got me.” She moves the gun and uses her pinky to point to the scar roping around her elbow. “That’s when my mom had enough.”

Ellie grips Cat’s knee tighter, rather than distract her while she’s holding the gun. “That’s really fucked up.”

Cat shrugs. “My mom used to say he was a snake. Wasn’t dangerous ‘til you stepped on him. But I know better.” She goes back to the tattoo, tracing the last pen lines on her skin. “Snakes are just trying to stay alive. He was trying to drag us down with him. So I wanted a snake. Not that the snake, like, _is_ him,” she clarifies. “More like it’s okay to be the snake, if you have to. If someone’s stepping on you. It’s okay to do what you have to do to survive.”

“Yeah,” Ellie says, her voice rough. “Of course it is.”

“And then,” Cat continues, “when you’re done, what do you do? Slough it all off. Start fresh.” She turns the gun off and sets it on the nightstand. Looks Ellie in the eyes. “Try to get as far away as you can from anybody trying to step on you.”


	11. Love

Ellie waits a long time after patrol is done. She watches the rest of her group check in their horses and gear, touch base with Jesse, then slowly dissipate on the streets into town; paired patrollers come back, give a nod or wave to Jesse or Maria, head out. When most of them have cleared out, Jesse goes over to Maria and they talk for a while, looking at the clipboard in her hand.

No sign of Dina.

Jesse finally peels off from Maria. Ellie trots over to catch him midway across the field.

“Hey, I was looking for Dina,” Ellie says uncertainly.

“Oh, I think she got back early. She’s probably already gone home.”

Ellie shifts her jaw. Of course.

“Why? Need me to tell her something? Or”—Jesse looks pointedly at the road—“you could come along? I was gonna swing by her place.”

Something about that feels like a bad idea. “I don’t wanna ambush her,” Ellie says. “I was just hoping to run into her.”

“Is everything okay with you guys? Dina’s been…” Jesse see-saws his hand in a _so-so_ motion.

Ellie sighs. “I wish I knew,” she tells him honestly. “I haven’t seen her in forever. Feels like she’s avoiding me.”

“Hmm. That is weird.” Jesse shifts his bag on his back; the field switches to dirt road under their shoes. “I mean, things _should_ be at, like, an all-time high,” he muses. “I don’t think we’ve gone this long without fighting or taking a break in, like, a long time. But… I dunno.” He shrugs.

Ellie hesitates, both wanting and not wanting to pry. “Is there, like, something going on with her?”

Jesse laughs. “That’s what I’m saying, man. No idea.”

“Huh. Well…” Ellie looks in the direction of her apartment. “Thanks anyway.”

“Sure. Ellie”—he touches her arm briefly, as she turns to leave—“I’ll tell her you were looking for her.”

Ellie starts to tell him not to, but something stops her. She presses her lips together and says, “Thanks.”

\--

The buzz of the tattoo gun is starting to feel calming, familiar. The bite of the tip doesn’t bother Ellie anymore, either; it feels welcome, feeling pain she can control, can channel. Different from the bruises and cuts she gets out on patrol. She flexes her fingers against her leg.

“She’s just jealous,” Cat says in her plain, simple way, coloring in part of the moth’s wing.

Ellie frowns. “Jealous of what?”

Cat looks up at her, too brief to read the look, and then back down at her work. “My bet is she doesn’t like you spending all your free time with me.”

It’s not untrue, but Ellie feels a little uncomfortable having that out in the open. “I mean, I _would_ spend free time with her. I tried to ask her to hang out a bunch of times, before she started, like, totally fucking avoiding me.”

Cat looks at her again, the look that means Ellie’s being dense. She shakes her head. “I’m not sure you’re hearing me, babe.”

Ellie bites down her frustration. “Sorry. Can you, um, tell me what you mean?”

Cat sighs. “Ellie, Dina doesn’t really like me.”

Ellie’s not sure what to say to that. She knows they aren’t close, but they were all friends, once. Weren’t they?

There’s less of an edge in Cat’s voice when she adds: “Imagine if you didn’t like Jesse. How would you feel about them being together?”

“I guess upset.”

“Right.”

Ellie tilts her head, trying to see Cat’s face. She can feel Cat holding back, not saying everything she’s thinking.

But this time, it feels safer not to ask.

\--

Cat says it’s wiser to wait for Dina to come around, rather than try to push her, but Ellie can’t help herself from picking at it like a scab. It doesn’t feel fair that being happy with Cat costs her her closest friend at the same time. So, when she suggests going to the last summer bonfire, Cat gives her one of those looks, but agrees to go.

In hindsight, she knew better.

As soon as she and Cat show up, Dina’s eyes cut right to them, sharp and flinty. It’s all Ellie feels all night: even when Jesse cajoles her into playing guitar, which should make her feel nervous; even when Cat feeds her a shot with a deep, mature-rated kiss as a chaser; even when Andre drums up a drunken birthday chorus for Candice. Even when they excuse themselves to stumble home, Cat warm and close with an arm around her waist, Ellie feels Dina staring after them, boring a hole in Ellie’s back.

She stops trying, after that.

\--

It’s an ordinary day, a really, deeply ordinary day, when it happens. Group patrol is drills, no foot set outside the wall; Cat comes over to hang out and draw while Ellie noodles on her guitar; Ellie overcooks potato hash and overcompensates with ketchup. They fall into bed, like they usually do when they hang out at Ellie’s, with no one to bother or hear them.

Ellie wipes her mouth on her wrist and crawls up the bed, lying on her side, watching Cat’s breathing even out and settle. Cat turns toward her, her eyes dark jewels in the dim twilight, a lazy smile on her lips. Cat reaches out to tuck Ellie’s hair behind her ear.

“I love you,” Cat says. So simply.

Time slows, then. Ellie sees it all clearly, the throughline in Cat’s smiles and looks, in the weight of her gaze, in her tender touch, in the warmth and closeness between them.

Is this it? Is this love?

Ellie smiles, sure. “I love you, too.”

\--

Ellie walks Cat home herself, for the first time in a while. She takes her time walking back, enjoying the cool night air, the loud crickets, the dim streets. The air smells of late summer.

At the gate, Ellie notices a figure on the front porch of the house. Joel, leaning on the railing.

She feels suddenly, forcefully, like she should tell him about Cat. Like it’s time.

Joel looks over and smiles at her, standing up straighter. “Hey, kiddo,” he says, like always.

Ellie worries her fingers together. Joel is full of that Jackson feeling: he looks whole, healthy, relaxed. Happy. Her heart suddenly hammers in her throat.

“Hey,” she manages. She walks awkwardly to the railing and taps her fist against it. She can’t even get the words onto her tongue. They feel trapped in her throat.

“What’s up?” he says, when she doesn’t say anything.

Ellie puts her other hand on the railing, angling her body away from him. “Nothing. Just… saw you were up.”

Joel leans on the railing again, turning a mug in his hands. Ellie smells the bitter stink of coffee.

She can’t get any more words out. Joel rubs his thumb against the mug. Finally, after an eternity, he stands up and says, “You wanna watch a movie?”

\--

The whole movie, she tries to work up the nerve to tell him. By the end, she starts to wonder if maybe she just isn’t brave enough.

Maybe he already knows. Most of the town knows. They haven’t exactly been subtle.

If he does know, he clearly isn’t upset, or happy either, because he hasn’t said a thing about it.

But, Joel is a bit of a hermit, a lot like Ellie. She’s not sure he does anything or sees anyone other than Tommy and Maria. He might have no idea. He might be totally shocked. Might look at her like she’s a stranger. Might freak out, or get angry.

She decides to tell him another time.

\--

Ellie and Jesse are at the front of the group scoping the back of a supermarket when part of the roof gives way. Ellie shoves Jesse out of the way, but ends up pinned under a corroded iron strut until Jesse recovers enough to lift it off her.

She doesn’t want to tell Cat about it, but she can’t find a good excuse to keep it hidden, either. When Cat peels her jeans off, Ellie’s whole thigh is a bright, angry red, purpling in a line across the center.

Cat stalls and looks at her, mouth agape. “Ellie, what…?”

Ellie fidgets, feeling suddenly very naked and vulnerable with her jeans around her knees, now that the mood shifted. “Patrol,” she says offhandedly. “It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“What happened?” Cat asks. She sure looks worried now.

“Just some shit falling off a shelf,” she lies.

Cat ghosts her fingers over the nascent bruise. Even that slight pressure brings a dull ache. Cat’s quiet for a long time, tracing the edges, thinking.

“Say something,” Ellie finally says. Cat never holds her thoughts in so long or so hard. It feels almost scary.

Slowly, Cat leans over and places a soft kiss over the purple center. “Just, be careful, will you?” she asks with difficulty. “If you have to go out there, just come back in one piece.”

Looking at her, at the wrinkle of her brow and the fear and pain in her eyes, Ellie feels a wave of guilt. “Yeah,” she promises. “Yeah, of course.”

\--

Maybe out of guilt, maybe to make it up to her, Ellie knocks on Cat’s door late, only hours after Cat left.

Cat’s mom greets her with a strange expression. Ellie only has a minute to ponder it before Cat’s there, looking at her skeptically, hopefully.

“Hey,” Cat says, guarded.

Ellie hooks her thumbs in the straps of her backpack. “Hey. I want to show you something. Do you maybe wanna come with me?”

Cat looks behind the door, probably at her mom. Then she looks at Ellie, at her backpack and flannel shirt, dressed to go somewhere. “Where are we going?” she asks shyly.

“It’s a bit of a walk,” Ellie says. “It’s kind of by the lake. It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

Cat hesitates. Ellie can almost hear her thoughts: Outside the walls? At night? In the dark?

Ellie steps forward and leans her hands on each side of the doorframe. “Trust me,” she asks softly. “I’ll protect you.”

Cat scans her face, her eyes. Finally, she says, “Okay.”

\--

“Wow,” Cat breathes. “This is beautiful.”

Ellie pulls a blanket from her backpack and spreads it out over the rock. From the outcropping, they can see most of the valley, barely lit by the slivered moon, the sky sparkling with stars.

“Sit down,” Ellie says, doing so herself. She takes her pistol out of her waistband and sets it at the edge of the blanket.

Cat crosses one foot over the other and drops neatly onto the blanket, cross-legged. She leans back on her hands, eyes on the stars. “I never knew this was here,” she says.

“I’ve been wanting to check it out for a while.” Ellie stretches her legs out and leans back, too. “Figured this would be a good night to see some stars.”

“There are so many,” Cat says, awed.

They sit quietly for a while, just looking.

“There’s almost as many stars as you have freckles,” Cat says with a smirk.

“Ha, ha.”

Cat sits upright and sets her hand on Ellie’s knee, still looking at the sky. Ellie reaches out to trace the ink on Cat’s skin, her fingertips stumbling over the small ridges of her scars.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Ellie says quietly. “I can take care of myself out there.”

Ellie feels the muscles tighten in Cat’s arm, under her touch. Ellie expects Cat to say something like, _Of course I’m going to worry_ , or, _You can’t take care of everything_.

Instead, Cat says, “You’d better.”

\--

Lately, Ellie doesn’t sleep as well on nights she doesn’t see Cat. She feels lonely, restless. Awake.

Laying on her bed, her legs flat against the wall, Ellie abandons her usual song and starts playing around on her guitar. For the first time, she’s not aiming for a song she’s heard from someone else. There have been words floating in her head all week, and she’s trying to find a rhythm, a melody that suits them. Her journal is open to the roughest draft in the world, every word crossed out at least once, sometimes rewritten and crossed out again.

She can’t help but feel a little self-conscious about it—about being a trope from all the crappy teen movies at movie night, pining away in her room, writing sappy bullshit songs, commiserating with her guitar.

But, self-conscious or not, she’s still doing it.

\--

Near the end of summer, when the nights are cooling off and some of the trees are starting to turn, Maria grabs Ellie after group patrol.

“Jesse says you’re doing good work out there,” Maria tells her.

Ellie eyes her, waiting for the _but_. “Thanks.”

“Tomorrow, report here early. You’ll be going out with Tommy and Joel instead of the group.”

That’s a surprise. Ellie blinks. “Really?”

Maria touches Ellie’s arm, reassuring. “Really. You might be getting your wish soon. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Ellie studies her. “Thanks, Maria.”

Maria taps her and then lets go. “Be safe out there.”

\--

The stables are quiet and peaceful at dawn. Joel and Tommy show up together, Tommy looking less rested but more awake than Joel.

“Morning,” Ellie says, but Joel just grunts and hops on his horse.

It looks like Tommy’s carrying Ellie’s guitar. The thought is a little unnerving. Did Joel stop in and swipe it after she left?

A ways out from Jackson, Tommy stops her next to a building. “You and I are scouting here,” he says. Joel nods to them and rides on.

Ellie glares a little as Joel disappears. He used to pull this kind of shit before Jackson—go off on his own, not tell her the plan. Treat her like the kid tagalong.

Tommy leads Ellie on a sloping path around toward the ridge. As usual, he’s eager to burden someone else with whatever issues he’s having with Maria. Ellie finds herself thinking about Joel. Annoyed he invited her out and then bailed. Anxious to tell him about Cat. Wishing she’d told him, so maybe she could ask his advice. Without Dina, there’s really no one else she can ask.

“Are you with me?” Tommy interrupts.

Ellie blinks and refocuses on him. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Anyway,” Tommy says, picking up whatever thread he was weaving, “this silent treatment…”

Ellie sighs quietly. “You should just apologize to her.” Tommy should always just apologize to her.

“I just sa—” He looks over his shoulder. “Okay. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“I can tell when you’re off.”

Ellie sighs. Tommy and Joel both think they’re so observant. “Just got some stuff on my mind,” she says, dismissive.

He smirks. “You let me know if you want to talk about it.”

She fights a laugh. Tommy might be the last person she wants to talk to about Joel. Or Cat. “Okay.”

\--

When they get back, Joel’s already there, ready to give Ellie shit about not changing the guitar strings. She’s not sure how she’s in trouble for not doing something he never told her needed to be done.

“Well, there’s that music store down there,” Tommy says, overly helpful. “I bet they got guitar stuff.”

Ellie looks at him. If Joel’s so worried about her, shouldn’t he be the one asking to talk?

Joel is giving Tommy a look, too, for his own reasons.

“I mean, that area’s long overdue for a sweep, anyway,” Tommy presses. “I can keep watch…?”

Joel looks at her. “What do you say, kiddo?”

Ellie looks aside. “Sure.”

As Joel walks out the door, Ellie feels a spike of dread. Once they’re alone, he’s going to tell her she’s never moving up to pairs. She’ll be on group patrol until she’s his age.

Her steps slow, and she looks at Tommy. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” she asks.

He doesn’t flinch. “Get on now. He’s waiting.”

\--

“Jesse tells me you’re handling your own quite well on the group patrols. He’s even recommending you for paired patrols.”

Here it comes. Ellie braces herself.

“… Though I think you’re still a bit young for it.”

Ellie dives right in. “I’m a better shot than almost all of them,” she pushes. “And I have more experience than most of the new recruits who’ve—”

“Look,” he cuts her off. “If you think you’re ready, I trust you.”

“Okay.” That’s new. “Thanks.”

“Can you just do me a favor and start with the shorter routes for now? You know, see how you handle them.”

Ellie’s barely listening. Finally moving out of kindergarten. Finally joining real patrols. “Alright.”

“Hey, you remember those Savage Starlight comic books that you’re into?”

“Yeah.” Kind of an abrupt topic change.

“Tommy and I found some when we were moving through that school the other day.”

“Did you like ‘em?”

“Well, you know,” he hems, “it—it’s not really my cup of tea, but Dr. Daniela Star, I mean, she’s pretty…”

“She’s a savage,” Ellie chuckles, nudging him to get the joke in the title.

Joel speeds up down the hill. “Well, what she does to Captain Ryan in that death match? Whew.”

“Yeah.” Ellie imagines Joel reading that issue. “I mean, he definitely deserved it, but…”

“It was a nice twist, how they escaped, though,” he adds.

He totally liked it. “You’re funny.”

\--

They tromp through the river up to the highway and leave the horses. Ellie follows his direction over a line of cars and spots a roadblock.

“So, now what?”

“Well,” he thinks aloud, “if you’re up for it, we could try cutting through that hotel.”

Just like a real patrol. “I’m up for it.”

\--

It’s wild how fast Joel switches modes when they’re outside the walls. Inside, he held her back for months and months from doing real patrols like she wanted. Out here, it takes like ten seconds for him to suggest she crawl in through a pile of rubble to get the front door open for him. It’s like he does actually trust her, deep down, but he talks himself out of it when he thinks about it too hard.

She pokes around the rotting hotel rooms until Joel calls her over. “I think I see a way through,” he says quietly, “but we’ve got spores. Put your mask on.”

Ellie scoffs. “Ugh. Do I have to? It’s just us.” The masks are hot, stifling, and she’s patrolling with the one person on Earth who knows she’s immune.

“What if we run into someone?” he asks, harsh through his mask.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Fine.” She puts her mask on and follows him in.

“You gotta be smart about this,” he starts in, like she’s irresponsible and an idiot, walking through clouds of spores with no mask on. “You stop wearing that mask, kiddo, and eventually you’re gonna slip up in front of someone you shouldn’t.”

Ellie tries not to, but she feels angry. “I’ve never slipped,” she says, as evenly as she can.

“You ain’t told nobody new, have you? Not Jesse, or… Dina, or…” He struggles.

There’s a small, painful twist in her heart. He hasn’t even noticed she and Dina are on the outs. Definitely hasn’t heard about Cat. Suddenly he feels really far away. “Of course not.”

“Okay, good.”

\--

They stumble across one of Ellie’s least favorite patrol finds: an advanced infection. The body still looks recognizably human, with tattered clothes still clinging to its frame, but fungus bursts out from the head and chest, enveloping the limbs, spreading into the wall like grotesque moss. Clickers don’t look human anymore, and runners still look human enough to treat them like raiders or bandits. This part of the process is just horrible.

“Huh.” Joel squats beside it. “Looks like it was shot a while back.”

Ellie stares and asks, “When did the last patrol go through here?”

“Not sure.”

He doesn’t get it. Ellie forces herself to ask, “Was it one of us?”

Joel hums. “Only people who went missing from Jackson were them teenagers from last year. This one’s too old. Probably just roamed in.”

Joel moves on. Ellie stares for another long moment before she tears herself away.

\--

Just when it’s starting to feel too hard not to say something, to address this loud silence between them, they find the lobby where all the infected have gathered. Really, it’s a welcome distraction. Ellie gets along with Joel just fine when they’re trying not to die.

“What do you say we give up on those strings for today?” she asks when they’re done.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

\--

Squeezing through an open wall, Ellie makes a mistake. She holds onto a pipe as she climbs under it and it breaks off in her hand, the fitting corroded with age. In an instant, something bursts through the crumbling wall and grabs her. Her flashlight catches orange and red as she hits the ground. The mask pulls her hair as it tumbles off. A huge infected, a bloater maybe, towers over her, until Joel shoots it in the back.

It’s been a long time since she saw a real fight. Group patrol is full of singleton runners and clickers, with the comfort of a big group to help outwit and outnumber them. This jolt of adrenaline feels like an old friend. Ellie forgot how superhuman it feels: how time seems to slow, and the world seems to narrow, and drawing a gun or throwing a bottle are natural and instantaneous, an instinct, a reflex.

In a strange way, running and shooting and ducking, circling this thing with Joel, she finds herself thinking, _Finally._

\--

Joel finishes it off with a machete, when it catches hold of Ellie. He straightens up, covered in its blood, his hands shaking. “That was too close,” he says, his voice shaky.

“Sure,” Ellie says, full of adrenaline and euphoria, “but we fucking did it.”

Joel laughs. “Yeah, we sure did.”

He’s panting. He sounds tired.

“You good?” Ellie asks.

“You mean other than being really old?” he jokes. “Ain’t nothing a solid night of sleep won’t shake off.”

“I wanna get out of here,” Ellie offers.

Joel starts shoving furniture out of the way, pretty loudly.

“What are you doing?” Ellie hisses. “What if there’s, like, two bloaters back there?”

It sounds almost like her own voice when Joel says, “It’ll be fine.”

\--

“Quite the fight back there, huh?” Ellie asks, unable to help herself.

“Not often we get a bloater ‘round these parts,” he agrees.

“Yeah.” Ellie smiles, thinking about telling everybody when they get back. “Jesse and Dina are gonna lose their shit when they hear about this.” It’s only after she says it that she remembers that Dina’s probably not gonna hear about this anytime soon, if she’s still avoiding Ellie.

“What’s the deal with them two anyway? They’re datin’, right?” Joel asks.

“Uh, on and off.” Ellie frowns, confused. “Why?”

Smugly, Joel says, “I hear the way Jesse talks about you.”

“No. Jesse and I are just friends.” Ellie smothers a laugh.

“Now, now, now,” he says, proud of himself, “I’ve got a pretty keen eye for these sort of things.”

It takes effort not to burst out laughing. Ellie says, “Not so keen with this one.”

“We’ll see.”

More to herself than Joel, Ellie mutters, “Don’t hold your breath.”

\--

The last room has an eerie beauty, with the afternoon sun glowing across the floors and walls. Almost like a spotlight, it catches the sharp, jutting joints of the skeleton in the middle of the floor, caressing a pool of dried blood.

A clicker crawls out, squalling, and Ellie steps back absently as Joel takes it out, looking more closely at the bag on the skeleton’s back.

“Hey, Joel,” she says, frowning. “I think it’s them. The couple that ran away last year.”

Joel looks at her, then circles the bodies to look closer. Ellie looks around and finds a letter.

“I think you’re right,” he admits.

The letter’s like basically every other suicide note she’s found in her life. It’s always harder if you know the people, though. She met Sydney, once, when she first got to Jackson. As she reads it to Joel, she starts to feel that anger, inside. That bitterness. It tastes as bad as his fucking coffee smells.

“If only they were immune, right?” she says, the words bubbling up before she can force them down. She stares at the bodies. She and Riley should have ended up like this, by rights. Just like this.

Joel ignores her and clears his throat. “Well, let’s… Let’s go get Tommy, and we can get these bodies back to Jackson. Yeah?”

He starts walking away.

And Ellie can’t take it anymore.

“After you took me out of the Firefly hospital,” she says, “you said there were dozens of people like me.”

Joel stares, like he doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about. “Uh… yeah,” he says. “Yeah, that’s what they told me.” He says it like he knows it sounds stupid.

Ellie watches him. Watches his face. “I’ve never met another immune person before,” she says. “Have you?”

“… They could be hiding it,” he says, eventually. “You do.”

It’s like she can feel the lie. Feel it, crawling on him and her and all around them.

Ellie looks at the paper, at the tattoo on her arm. New life.

Ellie looks at him. “Do you believe that?”

Joel frowns. “Is this really the time for this?” he asks.

Joel stares at her hard, their eyes connecting them, like a baseball bat connects someone’s hand to someone else’s gut.

“We traveled across the entire country to bring me to the Fireflies,” she says, hardening her resolve. “I had so many questions for them. Why did you pull me out of there when I was still unconscious?” she asks. Searching his face.

Joel’s face gives her nothing. “Because I let them run their tests,” he says, like always, “and when I saw that they were useless, I got us out of there—”

“How do you _know_ they were useless?” Ellie asks, and she’s almost yelling, now. “Maybe if you—just would’ve given them more time, they would’ve—figured something out—”

“Ellie— _Ellie_ ,” he says, cutting her off. He steps closer and glares, _glares_ at her. “There was no cure,” he says, enunciating each word on its own.

It’s a lie, he’s lying, lying again, and Ellie looks down because she can’t take it all in at once, his glare and his anger and his huge fucking lie.

“There’s nothing that could’ve helped these people or anybody else,” he says. His glare softens a little, but not enough. “I know you wish things were different. _I_ wish things were different,” he says, somehow raging and begging at the same time. “But they ain’t.”

Ellie looks at him again, searching his face, grasping for a handhold, for something to make her trust him, believe him. There’s nothing.

She turns, too angry to watch him lie anymore. He’s lying. He’s still lying. After all this time.

“… Or is there something else you’d like to rehash?” he asks, giving her that hard stare, the one he makes when he’s angry with her, when he thinks he’s her fucking dad.

It doesn’t matter. She knows what she has to do. So she clears her face, looks at him, and says “No,” quietly, like a good kid.

Joel hesitates. He thought she would push. “Good,” he says, uncertainly.

She has to leave. She has to leave tonight.


	12. Apogee

Ellie forces herself to act normal on the way back. She helps Joel and Tommy rough together a sled; tote the bodies; hitch up to Tommy’s horse.

At the gate, Ellie splits from them immediately and pulls Amara aside. “I need a favor,” she says quietly.

\--

Walking home, Ellie makes a list in her head. If she travels light, she won’t need much in the way of weapons or supplies. She has jerky and cheese at home. A little ammunition.

Cat is there, at her door. Waiting for her.

Cat. Fuck.

“Hey,” Ellie says, wondering how she’ll explain this.

Cat smiles. It’s a normal day, to her. “Hey, you.” She runs a hand down Ellie’s arm while Ellie lets them inside.

“What’s the matter?” asks Cat. Ellie dumps her backpack out on her desk and sorts the pile out between _take_ and _leave_.

“You won’t like it,” Ellie says uneasily.

Cat comes over and leans on the counter, arms crossed. “Ellie. What is it?” Her voice is harder.

“I have to go away for a couple weeks.” Ellie starts packing her _take_ pile back in the bag.

A long pause. “A couple _weeks_?” Cat says, clearly trying not to yell. “Where? Why?”

“It’s a thing for work,” Ellie lies. She carries the bag to the kitchen and packs jerky, cheese, and what’s left of her trail mix. “Like a recon thing. It’s not a big deal. But Maria asked me, and I really want to be on her good side.”

It’s strange, how easy the lie comes.

Cat crosses and re-crosses her arms. “I thought you were staying on group patrol,” Cat says. Her voice sounds small. Helpless.

It breaks Ellie’s focus. She releases the backpack and turns. Slowly, she comes closer and wraps her arms around Cat’s shoulders. “Hey. I’m sorry. I know it’s really sudden.”

“Patrols don’t even go on overnights,” Cat says. “What does she want you to do?”

Ellie sets her jaw. “I don’t know the details, babe. I just—I said I’d do it. I have to do it.”

“Why does it have to be you?” Cat asks. She sounds almost scared.

Unsure how to blunt the blow, Ellie says, “It’s like I told you, I’m one of the best they have.”

“They have plenty of people who’ve been on patrol for decades,” Cat says, the fear starting to transform into anger.

“Most of them haven’t been on a long mission in a really long time. And I’ve already been where they’re sending me.”

“Where?” Cat mutters.

Ellie swallows hard. “Salt Lake City.”

\--

Ellie forces herself to eat a big dinner, using most of the produce she has left for the month. Her appetite is almost nonexistent, but she wants a full belly when she leaves.

While she eats, she sits with her journal at her desk, twisting her pen in her free hand. On the page, at the top, she’s written _Joel_ , but she isn’t sure what else to write.

At one point, she hears a knock on the door. Joel’s knock.

She walks to the door and flips the lock closed.

\--

At midnight, all the lights are out in Joel’s house. Ellie zips up her sweatshirt and puts her pack on. She doesn’t even feel nervous. It feels like the only path for her to take, now. No other direction to turn. A satellite finally embracing gravity, falling to Earth.

She leaves the note for Joel on the desk.

\--

Ellie directs Shimmer up the path she and Joel took to Jackson, a lifetime ago. The first time he lied to her. Shimmer struggles a little in the dark, so she takes it slow, getting off and leading when the path gets choppy. They ride past the broken-down truck Joel stole. It looks out of place, like a time capsule. Seems like someone should have moved it or stolen it or lit it on fire, by now.

Traveling alone is quiet, and fast. Ellie used to be afraid of ending up all alone, but right now, she’s not sure she could deal with other people. She already kind of proved that with Cat. Another problem she left for herself when she comes back.

Ellie replays her conversations with Joel over and over in her mind. Waking up in the back of the truck. Stopping him on the way into Jackson. His answers felt off, the way they did in the hotel, when it finally broke her. But does she really believe he lied?

The farther she gets from Jackson, the less certain she becomes.

Part of her really believed Joel was going to be that person for her—the one who stayed, who didn’t die or disappear, who kept her safe, who she could trust. Part of her wants to hold on to that belief.

But, the more she thinks about that, the more she knows she isn’t being honest with herself. Ever since Riley, Ellie has known that nothing good ever lasts, for her. Nothing good sticks around. Nothing good stays true.

Joel. Dina. Cat. Jackson. Maybe it’s all just another lie.

\--

In a gulley under a Lava Hot Springs road sign, Ellie considers another possibility: If Joel did lie, what does she do next? Will the Fireflies still be there? If not, does she go looking for them?

Ellie traces the ink on her arm over and over and over again. Is it too late to pick up her aborted destiny where she left off?

If Joel lied, why did he lie? What didn’t he want her to know?

\--

It only takes four and a half days to get to Salt Lake City. Ellie knows she pushed Shimmer a little too hard, but she’s worried Joel is already on her trail, coming after her. He must have gone berserk when he saw she was gone.

When the hospital comes into view, it almost feels too sudden. Four days of stewing didn’t prepare her for this colossus of memory rising from the gloom.

Ellie buys time in a field near the front entrance, building a fire to dry off from the morning’s rain and watching Shimmer rest and pasture for a bit.

Ellie watches the building for a couple of hours. There’s no movement inside; no lights. No guards patrolling the roof or doors. She can almost sense it: the yawning, spacelike void of being utterly alone.

She checks the pistol in her waistband and heads inside.

\--

That yearning, eerie emptiness only grows as she wanders the lower floors. The walls and rooms look familiar, but they all look the same. Some hallways are spattered with flecks, sprays, or pools of blood.

There are no infected, and no bodies.

\--

On the Pediatrics floor, she finds a few notes left behind in an office, with a Polaroid she recognizes. It’s her arm, before the burn scar, before the moth. The notes mean nothing to her; the handwriting is unfamiliar. But the Polaroid is proof, incontrovertible, that she was here. That they did run tests.

At the end of the hallway is a red door with the Firefly painted in what looks like blood. It looks like the one next to the dinosaur museum, where the ex-Firefly confessed his sins and then blew his brains out. _Liars_ , he’d written. Lots of those to go around.

There’s a note near the door. Someone complaining about a vote to disband. Maybe there really are no Fireflies, anymore. Ellie wonders if the graffiti in Boston still urges people to _look for the light_. They might be looking a long time.

\--

The sign of blood by the door doesn’t match the banality of the surgery suite inside. There’s dirt and disuse everywhere; a dried puddle of blood on the floor here, too. Nothing spectacular or unusual.

In the back, Ellie checks a duffel, maybe the hundredth thing she’s checked since walking in the building. In it is a tape recorder.

\--

“ _They said, even if we found her, or by some miracle found someone else that’s immune, it’d make no difference. Because the only person who could develop a vaccine is dead._ ”

Joel told her that her immunity was common; that it meant nothing.

It sure means nothing now.

\--

Ellie plays the tape ten, twenty, a hundred, two hundred times. She plays it on speaker, pacing the abandoned hallways. She plays it in offices and hospital rooms while she slams cabinet doors open and shut, shoves glassware and papers off tables, kicks chairs and beds. She plays it while she yells, her voice swallowed by the black hole of the hospital.

There’s nothing and no one to hear her.

\--

By morning, her rage is spent. As if in sympathy, her campfire burns out from lack of tending. She sits on a crate, watching the dew dry from the grass, playing the tape.

The second she hears the horse, she knows it’s Joel. It feels inevitable, as much as her leaving felt inevitable. He has to follow her. He can’t do anything else.

“Ellie! Ellie,” he yells, pulling up in front of her. Ellie knows he knows something is wrong; she just stares at him, standing still.

Joel hugs her. She tells her body to push him away, but it’s like she’s paralyzed.

“The hell were you thinking, running off in the middle of the night like that? You talk to me,” he says, and really, it’s almost disgusting, the irony. She closes her eyes and her arm finally responds. “Don’t just leave me a goddamn note—”

She pushes him away. It stops the flood of filler.

Ellie lets herself look to the side for a moment, to gather her strength. She knows this is it. It’s time. Still, it’s hard to meet his eyes. It’s hard to look at him when she knows what’s coming next.

“Tell me,” she says, “what happened here.”

Joel shifts and his lips move, but no words come. Ellie can see it, clearly: Joel preparing his lie, and then seeing that things have changed. Hesitating.

“If you lie to me one more time, I’m gone,” she says. It feels like she’s crying, but the words come out clear. “You will never see me again. But if you tell me the truth, I’ll go back to Jackson. No matter what it is.”

Joel debates with himself. It feels like a long time. “Just say it,” Ellie pushes. “Joel.”

Now it’s Joel who can’t look at her. “Making a vaccine… would have killed you,” he says. When he looks up, he looks the saddest she’s ever seen him.

This last piece completes the puzzle. Ellie already has the rest. It would have killed her, so he killed them, rather than let her do what she came to do. Rather than let her save everyone else. Rather than let her trade her borrowed time for something better, bigger.

“So, I stopped them,” he’s saying.

Ellie barely hears him. Did he think she was afraid to die? Did he think she hadn’t been waiting for it, since that night in the mall with Riley? Since the day she lost her mom and family? Since her first screaming breath in this godforsaken world?

Did he think about her at all?

No. He only thought about himself.

She must not have been crying before, because she’s sure crying now. She can barely breathe.

As if summoned, his hand touches her back. She slaps him off and shoots upright. “Don’t you _fucking_ touch me!” she yells. She can barely look at him. “I’ll go back. But we’re done.”

She grabs her bag and runs.

\--

So many people have died, have left. Ellie’s never really been betrayed like this.

The losses felt heavy: a weight on her back, something to carry, to hold.

Betrayal feels empty.

\--

Ellie can’t stop playing the tape, over and over. Finally she pulls the tape from the recorder and yanks the ribbon out, out and out until there’s none left on the reel, slashing it to confetti with her switchblade. Without really deciding to, she’s stomping on the recorder with her heel, smashing it with a rock, throwing it in the fire.

At the top of the hill, she sees Joel’s hair, a dark spot in the short grass. She doesn’t warn him off.

What’s one more ghost to haunt her?

\--

It takes longer, going back. Going home. Shimmer worked hard on the way out, and Ellie’s not eager to return, either. The closer they get, the more she worries. Can she just go back, like nothing is different?

It’s a moot point, really. Everyone she knows is dead, except the people of Jackson. Even without Joel, she has a life there.

Her fingers trace the fern. New life.

“Guess Cat’s not the only one who gets nine lives,” she says to herself.

\--

Ellie doesn’t mean to, but she comes back at the same time as Dina and her patrol partner. Ellie feels like shit already, and the reminder that Dina’s being a jackass is another kick to the teeth. So, when Dina falls right in beside her, it feels sour.

“You’re back,” Dina says, like she even knew Ellie left. “Where’s Joel?”

Ellie frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“He said you went on like a camping trip, but you were gone so long…” Dina frowns.

“What the fuck do you want, Dina?”

That surprises her. Dina glances around, uncertain for once. “Just asking how—”

“Oh, so you fucking avoid and ignore me for a fucking month, and then the second you want to talk, we have to talk?”

Dina hesitates. She looks embarrassed. It’s a look Ellie hasn’t seen much.

Good.

“Ellie,” she fumbles, “I never meant…”

Ellie gives her a second to come up with a lie, but apparently Dina comes up short.

“You know what, whatever, Dina,” she mutters, looking ahead of her. “I wish you just told me you were a fucking homophobe. It would have saved me a lot of fucking time.”

“Wha—”

Ellie kicks Shimmer into a canter. Dina comes up beside her a beat later, Japan matching step.

“I’m not a—a _homophobe_ ,” Dina protests.

Ellie laughs humorlessly. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m not!” Dina seems actually upset.

“Then explain it to me,” Ellie says. She can see up ahead, the trail narrows, too close to ride abreast.

Dina sees it too. “Honestly, Ellie, I’ve just been really busy, and I, like, wanted to give you time to—like—”

“Fuck you,” Ellie says, and she’s never said it to Dina sincerely before, but she means it this time. She’s done assuming the best in people. “Come find me when you come up with a better fucking lie. If you don’t wanna be my friend, just do what you’ve been doing and stay out of my fucking face.”

Ellie speeds up to cut Dina off at the mouth of the trail. Dina doesn’t call after her.

\--

Maria and Jesse are both at the stable when she gets there. Of course.

Maria gives her an intense stare, but apparently Jesse doesn’t know, because Maria doesn’t say anything. Jesse offers to take the reins and check Shimmer back in.

“How was the camping trip?” Jesse asks uneasily. It’s clear he didn’t really buy that story, or at least he knows it went a lot longer than planned.

“Sucked,” Ellie says, pausing only long enough to give Shimmer some appreciative attention. “Rained a lot.”

Then, instead of smoothing things over, instead of waiting to let Jesse make a disarming joke or make her feel better, Ellie just walks away.

\--

Home is just like she left it. It almost feels like time traveling. There’s still a pile on her desk of things she dumped out of her patrol bag and didn’t take with her. Her last dishes still sit on the drying rack. The bed’s still unmade.

Ellie peels off her dirty travel clothes and, for maybe the first time, fills the tub. She sinks into the barely-warm water and lets out a ragged exhale.

On the edge of the tub, she catches sight of the tattoo, over the burn, over the bite. Again, she traces it, an anxious tic, a self-soothing caress. _I want to be like that_ , she’d told Cat. _Look for more than just darkness._

Ellie breathes deep and feels something flutter inside, like a withered plant tasting water, or a chrysalis beginning to open. For the first time since the hospital, she feels something other than anger and hurt.

She dries off, gets dressed, and leaves for Cat’s house.

\--

Maria’s in the yard when Ellie opens the door, heading straight for her.

“Ellie,” Marie says fiercely. She reaches for Ellie’s arm, then leans heavily against the siding instead. “Do you mind telling me just what on Earth is going on?”

Ellie squints at her. “What did Joel tell you?”

“He said you took off in the middle of the night and he was going after you.” Her eyes search Ellie’s wildly. “This was maybe twelve hours after he came to me and approved you for paired patrols, so I assume it wasn’t about that.”

Ellie grits her teeth and looks away. “Maybe you should ask Joel instead of me,” she says.

Maria lifts her hand, then pats the siding with it again. “I’m asking you,” she says, trying to catch Ellie’s eye. When Ellie doesn’t answer immediately, Maria stands straight and crosses her arms. “If you’re going to do patrols for me, I need to know you’re stable, Ellie. I need to know what’s going on.”

Ellie looks down and shakes her head. Meets Maria’s eyes. “I just needed to figure some things out,” she says. “It was a one-time thing. There’s nothing to worry about.”

It’s clear Maria wants the whole story, but it’s not in her nature. “Fine,” she says eventually, satisfied. She relaxes just a little. “Sorry to pry. You’re family,” she adds, touching Ellie’s arm this time. Ellie fights the urge to flinch away. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” Ellie says, quiet. “Sorry I ran off. It really was just one time.”

Maria gives her arm a squeeze. “I understand. Joel just got back, if you were worrying about him.”

“Thanks.” Ellie looks at her fingers, twisting together.

Maria finally releases her.

\--

“Cat.”

Cat doesn’t hear her. She’s lying on the bed, facing away toward the windows, the Walkman lying beside her.

Ellie shuts the door, loudly. Still nothing. She walks over and sits on the bed.

Cat looks over and does a double take. She pulls the earbuds out and sits up, leaving space between them.

“Cat,” Ellie says, her throat tight. She tentatively puts her hand on Cat’s.

Cat lets her. “Are you okay?” she finally asks.

Ellie nods. “I missed you,” she says, closing her hand around Cat’s.

“Yeah.” Cat stares at their hands. She doesn’t reciprocate. “Are you going to tell me why you really left?”

Ellie hesitates. Cat looks up, her eyes hard, her mouth set. She’s angry.

“I…”

“You told me some bullshit story about Maria,” Cat says, almost spitting when she cusses. “Then Maria said you went on some camping trip with Joel, like that’s something you would do with no warning and lie to me about. You fucking _lied_ to me, Ellie.”

“I did.”

Cat stares at her, her eyes liquid and full.

Ellie wets her lips. Works her jaw. Tries to dredge words up from her empty head.

“Before I came to Jackson,” she says, out of nowhere. “When I was traveling with Joel, we—something happened. And he… I wasn’t, like—I was unconscious. And when I woke up, I asked where we were, like, why we left the people we were with. And he told me this… story.”

Cat stares at her. Unreadable.

Ellie swallows. “And I didn’t really believe him. But I wanted to. And I guess… since we got here, that was enough. For a while. And then before I left—” She looks down at their hands. “I don’t know. I asked him about it again. And he told me the same story. And it just felt wrong.” She shakes her head and looks at Cat again. “I had to know the truth.”

Cat doesn’t move for a long time. She doesn’t even seem to breathe.

“Did you find it?” she asks quietly. Icily. “The truth?”

“Yes,” Ellie croaks.

Cat nods slowly. She draws her hand out from under Ellie’s.

“Cat…”

Cat shakes her head. “I get that some things are hard to talk about, Ellie,” she says, too patiently, too gently. “But those things are important to talk about. I need you to trust me enough to talk about them. Otherwise…”

Ellie searches her eyes, panicking. “Otherwise?”

Cat crosses her arms. “I don’t know.” She withdraws a little, glancing at her sketchbook. “I think you should go home. Let’s…” Cat sighs and brushes her bangs out of her face. “Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?”

Ellie stares at the sketchbook. Cat’s been drawing her.

“Okay.”


	13. Chrysalis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today i learned that "chrysalis" is specifically a cocoon for butterflies, not moths, but it's a pretty word so i don't care!

After everything with Cat, Ellie crawls right into bed in her clothes. She pulls the covers all the way over her head, lying below the pillow. She lets her brain turn off. It’s soft and dark under the blanket, the air close and hot and stale. Ellie feels the ridges and pockmarks of the burn scar under her fingertips. Her breaths come slow.

Eventually, there’s a knock at the door.

Ellie tugs the blanket down enough to peer out. The sky is dark out her window. The air in the room is cold and fresh.

Another knock. “Ellie,” someone says, and it’s Dina, it’s Dina’s voice.

“Fuck off,” Ellie croaks. Her body feels heavy, sluggish. She nuzzles her face back into the blanket.

The door opens. Ellie sits upright, squinting, glaring. Dina stands just inside the door, backlit by the dim porch light. She turns away; her face is shadowed.

Neither of them speaks. Dina closes the door carefully, quietly. The room is dark.

“Twice in one day,” Ellie says, raw and dry. “Throw me my journal. I gotta write this down.”

“Ellie.”

“ _What_.” Ellie drags her arms into her lap.

“I’m really sorry, Ellie.”

Ellie traces the moth’s wings. She can’t look up.

“I fucked up, okay?” Dina hasn’t moved from the doorway. She sounds almost nervous.

Ellie touches her face; squeezes her eyes shut. “It’s fine, Dina,” she says. She feels so tired.

“No… I really did fuck up. I shouldn’t have…” Dina takes an uncertain step toward her. “You were right. I was avoiding you. But not for the reason you think.”

“I know.” Ellie drops her hand back to her lap. Stares at her fingers. Twists them together. “I know you’re not like that.” She’s not sure how she knows, but she does. It would have been too simple. Dina’s not simple.

Dina hesitates again. She feels far away.

“Good,” she says, releasing a breath. “It was never… I don’t care if you’re gay, Ellie.”

“It kind of felt like you did.” Her voice is just a speck, a spore, a tiny dust mote in the huge dark quiet of the room.

Dina sighs, and then there’s light suddenly, from the lamp by the door. Ellie winces.

“In hindsight, I get it,” Dina says, walking slowly to the bed. “I was kind of a jerk about it.”

Ellie pulls her sleeves over her hands. “Cat said you were just jealous,” she says, checking Dina’s face.

Dina freezes, halfway seated on the bed. Her eyes widen in alarm—caught.

It’s almost like letting herself see the truth about Joel pulled back the curtain on everything. In this moment, in this second, it’s clear: Dina’s jealous _of_ Cat.

So this is the reason. This reason makes sense.

Ellie lets her flounder for a moment. Then she throws her a line: a lie, a half-truth. “Like, you didn’t like me spending all my time with her, or something.”

The panic recedes. Dina sits on the bed and looks away; tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Yeah,” she says, clearing her throat. “Yeah, um. It was stupid.”

Ellie studies her. She won’t make Dina say it out loud, but Dina has to know it isn’t fair. “It’s not like you had any time for me when you and Jesse got together,” she says carefully. “I’ve been making time for you. You just didn’t want any of it.”

Dina shakes her head and looks down. Ellie can see Dina holding back.

“Dina.”

When Dina looks up, it’s like déjà vu. It’s like before. Before Cat. Dina’s eyes are sharp and full, her expression fierce, intense. When she looks at Ellie, it’s like she looks into her, _sees_ into her. Time flexes and warps, and Ellie realizes they’re sitting close, now. Dina seems to lean toward her, her gaze a tether, a harpoon, pinning her, trapping her.

“Just say it,” Ellie whispers, struggling, drowning.

Dina’s face eclipses the room, her eyes huge and deep and close, searching Ellie’s.

But here, in this way, Dina and Ellie are the same. Dina can’t, won’t say it. And Ellie won’t make her.

Dina drops her eyes and retreats. “I’m sorry,” she says—like that’s what Ellie meant. Like that’s what Ellie wanted her to say.

Ellie stares at her. Dina’s eyes made her feel full, but now she feels empty again: hollow. Disappointed.

“Can we just…” Dina fiddles with the edge of her jacket. “Can we try again?”

“Try again?” Ellie asks dully.

“I want to be friends again,” Dina says, awkward. She glances over. “Is that okay?”

Ellie scratches her ear and looks down. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “Sure.”

\--

After Dina leaves, Ellie slowly draws the covers over her head again, back into her cocoon, into the stale stillness. She drifts from thought to thought, memory to memory. Dina, warm and funny and sharp, their moments together suspended in amber. Cat, bold and sweet and sad, her palpable angst at Ellie’s betrayal. Riley, and the terrible price she paid for that one beautiful night.

In a way, she realizes, nothing has changed. When they came to Jackson, Joel told her their mission was over: her immunity meaningless, her life as open and undirected as anyone else’s. He was a coward, afraid to tell her why, but the effect is the same now as it was then.

Ellie’s just a girl, now. No savior or martyr. Just a girl.

\--

In the morning, it’s hard to tell where her dreams began and ended. Dina came by, she remembers. But the clarity, the certainty she felt last night, that’s all gone, now. She thinks back, trying to identify the evidence or proof that made her so sure, but she comes up empty.

Dina, jealous of Cat. Ridiculous.

\--

Ellie makes her way to the stable early, when the pairs head out. Maria catches her and pulls her aside.

“I didn’t know when you were coming back, so I don’t have you in the schedule today,” Maria says, sounding almost normal. “I put you in for tomorrow. Get some rest today.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ellie looks over her shoulder toward town.

Maria looks at her with concern. “See you tomorrow,” she says, eyes staying on Ellie as she walks away.

Ellie pushes her sleeves up and turns, suddenly aimless. A whole day to spend with no one.

“Ellie!”

Dina jogs up to her, smiling. Ellie blinks at her. Dina looks so normal it’s almost off-putting. She wears the same jean jacket she wore last night. Her pistol and knife poke out of a new holster strapped to her thigh.

“Hey,” Ellie says.

“You on paired patrols now?” Dina asks. She even sounds excited.

This morning, their conversation felt like a weird dream. Now, it feels more like the month of awkward silence was a dream—like they’ve always been just like this.

“Um, tomorrow,” Ellie says, scratching her neck. “Apparently my, uh, triumphant return wasn’t foretold by the scheduler.”

Dina snorts. “Her loss. Maybe I’ll catch you tomorrow, then?”

Ellie’s eyes slide to the side and back. “Sure.”

Dina hesitates, and concern flickers over her face. “Are you okay?” she asks, sincere and quiet, without the façade of normalcy.

Ellie shakes her head, but says, “Yeah. Just thought I was going out today. Not even sure what to do with myself now.”

Dina looks over at the group, where Maria’s waving her over. She spares Ellie a sympathetic look. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

As she trots away, she turns back to yell, “Go read some comic books, nerd!”

Somehow, that makes Ellie laugh. She feels that chrysalis inside her crack open a little more.

Maybe she didn’t lose all of herself, just yet.

\--

For maybe the first time, it feels like everyone is staring at her as she walks to the market alone. It’s like she’s a rock in a stream, everyone flowing surreptitiously around her, leaving space. Along the way, she checks the farm rotation schedule and the Tipsy Bison schedule. Cat’s on the dishwashing line all week, including today.

Amara’s working the produce table. “Hey,” Ellie says, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Ellie,” Amara says with a smile. She pats her belly. “Didn’t want to jinx things, but I made it through the first trimester, so they transferred me here to be away from the gate and you rugrats.” She wrinkles her nose, teasing.

“Oh. Congratulations,” Ellie says.

Amara starts packing provisions into one of the smallest crates. “How was your, you know…?” Amara raises an eyebrow.

Ellie looks down, tugging her index finger. “It was fine. Thanks for your help.”

“I’d say anytime, but Maria was pretty pissed about it,” Amara confides.

“I’m not surprised. I’m… sorry I put you in that position, though,” Ellie says.

Amara shrugs, easily. “Don’t worry about it. You’re a good kid. I wanted to help.”

Ellie looks up. Amara pushes the full crate across the counter.

“Thanks,” Ellie says quietly. “For everything.”

Amara just smiles. “Of course! See you later.”

\--

Ellie stops home to unpack her supplies and tidy up. She puts all her travel gear away and trades the gun in her backpack for her journal.

The walk back to the diner feels long. If she’d known she’d be the talk of the town, she might’ve waited a day to pick up more groceries, but she definitely wants to see Cat as soon as possible.

It’s early afternoon when she gets to the Tipsy Bison, and the dining room is pretty empty, but Ellie still picks a barstool out of the way, at the far end of the bar. Josiah comes up as soon as she sets her bag down beside her.

“Thirsty?” he asks, his standard greeting.

“Can I get water and, like, something to eat?” Ellie asks, trying to peer through the door to the kitchen, even though she knows she won’t see anything from here.

Josiah goes to the sink, fills a glass, and sets it down on his way into the back. Ellie knows he’s probably telling Cat she’s here, but it’s not like she’s really hiding, either. She takes her journal out and flips to a blank page, leaning the spine against the edge of the bar.

This close to the door, she can hear the noises of the kitchen bouncing off the tiled walls. Plates, pans. Quiet voices. Then, clearer, Seth’s voice: “She better not be here to bother my dishwasher.”

Ellie rolls her eyes and crosses her ankles against the rung of the stool. She meant to draw Cat, but she’s drawn a moth.

Josiah brings a plate and Ellie finds she’s suddenly really, really hungry. It’s not until she takes an enormous bite that she notices Josiah lingering, watching her.

“What?” she tries to say, mostly just a noise around the food.

“Heard you, uh, took off on some camping trip,” Josiah says vaguely.

Ellie’s surprised he even heard. They hardly know each other beyond this type of interaction.

When she swallows, she shrugs. “Yeah. Kind of last minute.” She eyes him. “Kind of not your business.”

He shrugs; puts his hands out. “Fair enough.” He disappears into the kitchen.

Ellie waits a beat, then goes back to her meal.

\--

Later, Ellie’s messing with feathering on her fern drawing when Cat appears in the kitchen doorway.

“Hey,” Ellie says, dropping her pen and standing halfway up, one foot on the floor, her hands on the edge of the bar.

Cat looks at her, almost suspicious. “Hey.”

“Surprise,” Ellie offers weakly. “I wanted to see you.”

Cat watches her for another long moment, then takes Ellie’s plate and sets it in the bus bin. “Okay,” she says, “let’s go, then.”

\--

“Where do you want to go?” Ellie asks, feeling nervous.

Cat’s already walking, heading purposefully toward her side of town. “Let’s go talk at my house.” She glances back and her face softens a little, like wax under a flame. “If we go to your place, we aren’t gonna talk.”

Ellie bites her lip. Teasing is a good sign, right? “That sounds a little less ominous,” she admits.

Cat looks at her again and sighs a little, sadly, like she can’t help herself. She touches Ellie’s arm, running her fingers past her elbow and over the moth and fern, down to link their fingers together. “I don’t know if I’m ready to let you go,” Cat says. Her voice is melancholy, her words too intimate for the street.

Ellie’s not sure what to say to that. She closes her hand around Cat’s and follows.

\--

In her room, Cat drops Ellie’s hand and drifts away, sitting on her bed against the headboard. “I think you have the floor,” she says softly.

Ellie rubs her neck. She hasn’t thought of any lie that makes sense, and deep down, she doesn’t want to lie to Cat like Joel lied to her. She doesn’t want to be like that.

“I’m really sorry about leaving like that,” she begins, slowly. “And for lying to you about why. I didn’t…” She pulls at her thumb. “I should’ve given you a chance, to understand.”

Cat places her palms flat on the bed in front of her. She nods a little. Encouraging.

“I wish I could tell you everything,” Ellie says earnestly. “I wish I could. But it’s dangerous, Cat.”

At that, Cat looks up at her. That steady, even stare.

Ellie swallows. “The people we… The place we left. They could still…” She loses momentum. Her hand leaps to her burn—telling on her.

“Are you still in danger, now?” Cat asks.

Ellie starts to speak, stops. “I don’t know,” she says, honestly. “I just know Joel—he told me to keep it a secret, and he—he knows more about them. I don’t… I can’t risk it. I can’t put you in danger.”

Cat sighs and looks at her hands. “Ellie, I love you. I know you’re struggling, but I need you to tell me what happened. I need you to trust me.”

Ellie pinches her skin above the moth’s wing. “I’m trying,” she says. It sounds meek, out loud.

“Okay,” Cat breathes out. “Go ahead.”

Ellie steels herself to say it, to make it true. “Joel lied to me. I had to know, had to find out why. I’m… I had to finish it.” She walks over and sits on the bed. “But it _is_ finished. It’s done. It won’t happen again.”

Cat looks at her skeptically.

“It can’t,” Ellie amends. “There’s nothing else left to find out. There’s… nothing left out there for me, now.”

For a long moment, Cat sits there, stock still, and Ellie feels her heart stop too, waiting.

“Okay,” Cat relents. She looks down and takes Ellie’s hand, rubbing her thumb over the veins and tendons. “Okay. That was a good start.”

She doesn’t sound totally satisfied, but she doesn’t sound angry, either.

“I mean it though, Ellie,” she warns. “You have to trust me. That’s the only way this will work.”

“Okay,” Ellie says. “I’ll try.”

\--

When the waters feel calm, Ellie excuses herself to go. She doesn’t want to push her luck with Cat.

As she rises from the bed, Cat catches her by the shirt and pulls her down. Cat kisses her hard, fierce. It draws something out of Ellie, some dark, empty yearning, that bone-deep loneliness from the hospital pouring up and out her throat like a scream.

Then Cat’s below her, Ellie’s hands at her wrists, pinning them to the bed. Cat’s eyes are murky, hurt and relief and pain mixing together, maybe mixed with love. Cat starts to say something, and Ellie presses their mouths together and swallows it.

Even so close, even like this, Ellie feels an emptiness inside, a loneliness.

Her hands are hungry, greedy, and they open Cat’s jeans before Ellie can think to ask, before her mind can catch up. Cat reaches, one hand still pinned, the other catching Ellie’s shoulder, cheek: “Ellie,” Cat says, her voice clogged.

It brings her back to herself, brings mind and body into sync. Ellie stops, her hand halfway under Cat’s waistband, her pulse throbbing in her ears. She’s panting. They’re both panting.

Ellie drops to her elbow to release Cat’s wrist. Cat doesn’t move, her eyes on Ellie, wide, searching.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie says, lost. “I didn’t…”

Cat cups her face tenderly. “It’s okay,” she says, and her eyes are wet now, liquid and gleaming.

“I can’t,” Ellie whispers, not even knowing what she means.

Cat takes Ellie by the shoulders and pulls her down, mooring her, anchoring her. She tucks Ellie’s face against her shoulder.

For the first time since she got back, Ellie starts to cry.


	14. I Want You to Show Me

Ellie wakes to soft red light, the curtains glowing like closed eyelids, Cat’s room pink and hazy, a womb. Ellie’s face and eyes feel dry and puffy. She’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

Beside her, Cat lies facing away, her body rising and falling with the deep breaths of sleep.

Part of Ellie wants to wake her; to burrow back against her; to soak up her warmth, her life, like a lizard on a rock in the sun.

Ellie slides her legs off the bed and stands up. Cat doesn’t stir; she sleeps soundly, deeply, the sleep of someone unafraid and safe and sure. Ellie watches her for a moment longer, taking it all in. Suddenly, morosely, she wonders how many mornings like this they have left, before Cat realizes that Ellie can’t give her what she needs.

Ellie gets her bag, empty but for her journal, and climbs carefully out the window.

\--

On her way to the stable, Ellie tugs her sweatshirt flat and slips her arm into the second strap of her bag. It’s early still, the sun barely cresting the trees, rising later and later. She can see a few people already gathered, settling saddles on horses, double-checking gear.

Dina’s there, talking with the old guy she’s usually around. They’re pointing out at the mountains, talking quietly.

Ellie feels suddenly like she’s tromping off the bus for her first day at boarding school, a green ass kid. She grips the straps of her bag and steps into Dina’s vision.

“Ellie,” Dina says, and again, it’s like nothing ever happened. Dina smiles at her and turns her body, making space for Ellie in the conversation. “This is Eugene,” she says, slapping Eugene’s chest with the back of her hand.

“Hi, Eugene,” Ellie says, glancing at him.

Eugene huffs. “What is this, AA?”

Dina laughs. “Today’s Ellie’s first day doing real patrols,” she says, looking at Ellie with that teasing glint in her eye.

Of course Dina would open by undercutting her in front of the rest of the group. “You’re such a dick,” Ellie mutters.

Eugene doesn’t seem to give a shit. He eyes Ellie skeptically, then looks at Dina the exact same way. “How about you let me know when you’re done dick-measuring,” he says, and walks away.

Dina’s mouth drops open and Ellie laughs. “Well, that backfired.”

“Shut up.” Dina rolls her eyes and starts messing with Japan’s saddle. “Don’t you need to go get Shimmer?”

At that moment, Jesse walks up with two horses and passes Ellie one set of reins. “Good morning,” he says in his usual cheery way. “Welcome back.”

Ellie takes Shimmer from him and brushes her mane with her fingers. “Um, thanks, Jesse.”

Jesse waves to someone hidden by Shimmer’s big butt. A middle-aged woman steps back so Ellie can see her. “Ellie, this is Astrid,” Jesse says, gesturing between them. “She’s your partner today.”

A little put off, Ellie gives Astrid a half-hearted wave. For some reason, she thought she’d be with Dina, or Jesse. But that was silly.

“You two are doing the route out by the school today,” Jesse’s saying. “Astrid knows the way.”

Ellie takes the rifle he offers. “Sure.”

“Nice to meet you, Ellie,” Astrid says politely.

Jesse and Dina are talking now, in that too-close way they do. Ellie turns away.

\--

One thing Ellie likes about the older patrollers is that they don’t try to get all friendly and chatty like people did on farm rotation or stable duty or anything else there is to do in Jackson. It makes Ellie feel a little more comfortable; like she sticks out a little less.

Astrid barely says anything at all until they’re curving around by the schoolyard. “It’s this way,” she says, the first words they’ve spoken since they met.

Ellie’s never been down this trail before, although group patrol follows the same one for a little ways on the way out of town. The trees are already changing color down in the valley; the air has the dry, clean scent of fall. As they ride past the overgrown playground, the swings creak eerily in the breeze. Astrid slows next to the windows a few times, peering in and listening, but she seems satisfied the place is empty.

“Where’s the lookout?” Ellie asks as they reach the back end of the building. The schoolhouse is small and low, all one story.

Astrid points ahead past a copse of trees at the round white bulb of a water tower.

\--

The climb is almost scary at the top of the ladder, the wind much stronger, the horses small below them. “How the fuck do you get up here in winter?” Ellie asks.

Astrid offers a hand and helps Ellie up onto the catwalk. “We don’t come up here in the winter,” she says. “In a few months, we’ll move the logbook inside.”

Astrid leads her in a slow circuit around the belly of the tower, scouting through her scope at intervals. She must see a runner at one point, because she fires, just once.

“You want to try the scope?” she offers finally, at the far side of the tower. She gestures to a square notch in the catwalk, where a flat wooden step sits snug between the rails.

Ellie looks at the line of the rifle, the long scope bolted to the top. “That’s okay,” she says. “You seem to have it covered.”

Astrid shrugs and puts the rifle over her shoulder. She flips up the top of the step to reveal a cavity with a logbook and a pen on an old necklace chain.

“This your first day, right?” she checks, balancing the book on her knee.

Ellie nods, then says, “Yeah,” realizing Astrid isn’t looking.

Astrid tilts the book so Ellie can see what she wrote: the date, her name, and _One runner on the north hill. Cleared it. -A_

“What’s your name again?” she asks.

It’s nice that Astrid doesn’t call her _kid_.

“Ellie. E-L-L-I-E.”

Astrid adds it next to her name, then shuts the book and puts it away. Without another word, she resumes her circuit of the tower, scoping every so often.

Ellie follows, holding her rifle loose in her hands, the wood and weight familiar and calming. Outside the walls, in the quiet, open air, things feel a little easier.

\--

When they come back through the gate and dismount, Dina falls in beside her again, on foot.

“You made it back in one piece,” she says.

Ellie snorts. She doesn’t want to draw more attention to her trip to Salt Lake, but she can’t help herself from saying, “I did just survive two weeks out there on my own. All we did was ride to a water tower and pick off a runner a thousand yards away.”

As she says it, she realizes she was supposed to be out there with Joel, not on her own. It feels risky to correct herself. She just waits.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a badass,” Dina says after a pause. “What can I say, you tend to spoil the image when you go from sinking your knife in someone’s throat to freaking out about a torn playing card.”

“I do not _freak out_.”

Dina smirks. “Uh, I was there when you found Extravaganza or whoever. You about peed your pants.”

“I fucking did not,” Ellie says, laughing despite herself.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Ellie hands off Shimmer to the new Amara, and then her saddle and gear. She’s about to say something back when she feels Dina take her arm, the way she used to.

Ellie had kind of expected more distance from Dina, now that Dina knows there’s a risk Ellie could misinterpret things. Now that they’ve said the word out loud; now that they’ve both acknowledged it. Now that Dina’s seen Cat take Ellie’s arm the same way. But, as usual, Dina’s not that simple.

“… dinner with Jesse’s parents?”

Ellie blinks and looks at Dina. Dina’s waiting for an answer. Shit.

“Uh, sorry, I missed that.”

Dina frowns at her. “I said, do you want to hang out tonight, after I have dinner with Jesse’s parents?”

Before Ellie can answer, they step out into the field and Ellie’s blood runs cold.

Cat’s there, waiting for her.

Is that good or bad?

Dina must feel her go stiff, because she releases Ellie’s arm, gingerly. After a pause, where Ellie just stands there, Dina says, “Guess I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Ellie tries to say _sure, sorry_ , or something at least, but no sound comes out. Cat is looking at her; she leans on the fence, cardigan pulling open in the breeze, her hands in her pockets. She doesn’t look happy, or angry. She has that same in-between expression she’s had since Ellie got back.

Woodenly, Ellie works her legs over to the fence.

“You made up with Dina,” Cat says, right off the bat. Her voice sounds dull; her face is guarded.

Ellie looks over her shoulder, then back, worrying her fingers together. “Not sure how,” she jokes halfheartedly. “I yelled at her when I got back.”

Cat looks in Dina’s direction. “Guess that works for her.”

Ellie scans Cat’s face, looking for clues, for signs. “Cat, are we okay?” she asks.

Cat doesn’t reassure her with a smile or a touch, like she would have a few weeks ago. Her eyes flick to Ellie, but her body stays still, and her face changes only slightly, where her brows tip and her eyes soften.

“We’re okay,” she says, although for once, Ellie’s not sure she believes her.

\--

At Ellie’s place, Cat sets the couch pillows on the floor and puts Ellie down on one. Ellie sits still and watches as Cat brings out her kit bag and starts setting everything up on the coffee table, just like the first time.

Unlike the first time, the air feels tense. Ellie can feel things swirling around them, unspoken.

Cat doesn’t even speak. She taps the towel and Ellie leans her elbow on it, unfurls her arm, Cat’s masterpiece. Cat touches the lines, maybe checking how it’s healed. Her fingers leave goosebumps on Ellie’s skin.

Cat grips her firmly and shaves off the soft stubble on the moth and the light hairs all along the top of Ellie’s arm, all the way up to her hand. It’s a huge space, bigger than the first fern leaves. Ellie says nothing.

This time, Cat doesn’t ask her usual questions. She doesn’t ask if she’s sure, if she wants to do it today; doesn’t tell her the plan, the complexity, the pain to expect. Dimly, Ellie wonders if Cat will draw the fern at all, or if she’ll draw something new or unexpected, some symbol of her pain and anger, her frustration with Ellie for leaving, for lying.

Cat turns on the gun and presses Ellie’s hand flat against the table. She draws a smooth, sweeping line from the moth to the end of Ellie’s wrist, then tilts it along the back of Ellie’s hand, following the first fern toward her thumb. From there, she works backwards, drawing tiny black feathered leaves in pairs, each opening delicately, gracefully.

Ellie bites the inside of her cheek while Cat works. It feels like Cat is pressing harder, today. Like when Ellie colors the same lines over and over on paper, until the pen rips the page. It always feels primal, but today it feels primal and angry, hurting.

Ellie looks at Cat, hoping to check her expression, but her bangs form a curtain between them. Her shoulders slope downward; her free hand holds Ellie so tightly that white blooms on her knuckles and fingertips. Halfway up the stem of the fern, Cat pauses to wipe the ink away, and Ellie can see her hands are shaking.

She wants to speak, to say something, but it’s like there’s a spell woven around them, trapping them here, swallowing their words.

What is there to say?

\--

By the time Cat reaches the moth, the leaves cover most of Ellie’s arm, dark and full, each leaf rendered neatly and carefully, every pair even and balanced. Cat sits back and trades the gun to her other hand, wiping sweat off her palm onto her shirt.

Before Ellie can move, Cat takes her arm again, turning it to face the moth upward. She bends back down, and Ellie gasps quietly, bracing herself as the pain resumes. Cat drags the gun back and forth over the moth, shading in its body and the fanged tails of its wings. Strangely, this hurts less than the leaves.

Finally, Cat draws one last cluster of leaves, cradling the moth against the soft hollow of her elbow. When she finishes, she falters for a moment before sitting back, like she’s not ready to stop, yet.

Gingerly, Ellie lifts her arm from the towel. Her hand shakes, just a little.

Cat opens her mouth, but no words come out.

Ellie tries to say thanks, to say it looks good. Instead, she says, “New life.”

Cat looks down, at the table. She almost looks ashamed.

\--

As if in contrast, or apology, Cat applies the gel and bandage with infinite tenderness.

“You’re so quiet today,” Ellie says. Her voice comes out small.

Cat keeps her eyes on the bandage, wrapping in even layers up from the wrist. “I don’t know what to do with you, Ellie,” she says quietly. Sadly.

Ellie licks her lips. “You said we were okay,” she says. It comes out desperate.

“I know.” Cat clips the end down and sits back slowly. “It just—it feels like I don’t know you anymore. Like maybe I didn’t really know you before.”

“You know me,” Ellie says, her hands clenching into fists. “I’m still me.”

Cat shakes her head; looks up; studies her. “I know things about you,” Cat says, so gently. “I know things you like; I know what you’re like. But…” Cat reaches out and touches Ellie’s face, tucks her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what’s going on in here,” she says, looking into Ellie’s eyes, jumping between them.

Ellie wraps a hand around Cat’s wrist, holding her hand there against her cheek. “You do,” Ellie pushes, pleads. “It’s just one thing. I’m still me.”

Cat looks at her for a long, long time.

Eventually, she seems to find what she’s looking for.

“Okay,” she says softly. “Okay.”

\--

Cat leaves before dinner, so Ellie cooks herself something to eat and sits down with her journal. She turns the pages back, back, before Salt Lake, traveling back through her life. She skims her entries, her drawings. She drops a piece of tomato on one page and scampers to wipe the juice off. She stumbles across her first awkward poem-turned-song.

On a whim, she gets up to get her guitar and mess with the old melody. It takes her a moment to realize she never got her guitar back from Tommy after that day with him and Joel. Her stomach lurches and she feels a spike of anger, regret, and dread.

She can’t go ask for it. She’s not sure she could stand to even look at Joel right now.

As she stands aimless in the room, a knock sounds on the door. When she answers it, it’s Dina.

Dina smiles at her, that same unnerving, normal smile she’s offered each day since they fought. Maybe it really is easy for her to pretend it never happened. To go back to before.

“You better be happy to see me,” Dina says, sweeping right into the room. “I turned down a perfectly good impromptu bonfire for this.” Dina does a quick, casual look around, probably to see if Cat’s there.

“Don’t do me any favors,” Ellie says drily, shutting the door.

Dina shrugs her coat off onto the coffee table, next to the couch pillows still on the floor. She ignores them and takes two movies and a joint out of her bag. “Too late,” she says with a grin.

Ellie feels herself relaxing instinctively. She grabs the movies out of Dina’s hand to look at them.

“Told you you’d be happy to see me,” Dina teases.

\--

Ellie sets up the movie and sits on the bed, at the spot farthest away from Dina. She pulls her knees up and wraps her arms around them. She’s not sure she could handle peak Dina cuddly behavior tonight.

That doesn’t stop her. Dina lies sideways, across the bed, and links her feet casually around Ellie’s ankle.

Dina looks at Ellie’s arm a few times, but never says anything about it. She doesn’t ask about Cat, either.

Ellie doesn’t ask about the bonfire. Or about Jesse.

\--

Somehow, Ellie forgot that Joel’s part of the paired patrols. When she turns up for work, he’s there. He busies himself with his horse, since Tommy isn’t there yet, but Ellie steels herself and walks up to him.

It’s maddening, infuriating, how he lights up when he sees her coming. It opens up that great emptiness inside her, that void that wants to crawl up and out of her and suck up the whole world into nothingness.

“Do you have my guitar,” she says, not really asking.

“Oh,” he says. It isn’t what he was hoping for. “Uh, sure, kiddo. We can go get it after—”

“Just drop it off,” she says.

She disappears into the stable before he can answer.

\--

Ellie and Astrid check and clear the old shopping mall. They take out four runners and a clicker. Ellie takes more than half herself, without alerting the others. It feels good to be useful.

After they clear the floor, as they climb the stairs to the office with the logbook, Astrid says, “Nice kill back there.”

“Thanks.”

“You don’t talk much.”

Ellie considers. “I do sometimes.”

Astrid glances at her. “I wasn’t complaining.”

\--

Cat leads Ellie to the diner after work.

“Are we celebrating something?” Ellie asks.

“I just thought it would be nice,” Cat says.

She seems less intense, today. Less angry. Maybe it’s progress.

As they walk in, Cat starts to tell a story about one of the other dishwashers having a tiff with a boyfriend. It feels almost normal.

“Hopefully she takes your advice,” Ellie offers as they sit.

Cat sits in the booth across from her, but she places one of her feet over Ellie’s in a way that feels reassuring and intimate. “She’ll never leave him,” she dismisses, looking at the doorway to the kitchen.

Seth takes their order, inspecting each of them with scrutiny. “You here to make trouble?” he asks Ellie, seemingly out of nowhere.

Ellie bristles immediately. “What the fuck?” she asks. “I’m here to eat.”

Seth jabs a finger at her. “You watch your tone with me, young lady.”

“I don’t have a fucking tone,” she says, even though she feels Cat shrinking down across from her.

“Do you want to eat here or not? Because I’ll gladly show you the door.”

“Yeah, I want to eat here. Is that allowed or what?”

Josiah comes over from the bar and touches Seth’s shoulder. “They need you in the back,” he says.

Seth glares at Ellie, then Cat, then Ellie again, and then stomps into the kitchen.

Josiah looks at them, tired. “Two specials?” he asks.

Cat looks at Ellie warily.

“And two beers,” Ellie tries.

Josiah eyes her for a moment, then relents and walks away.

“Why do you let him rile you up like that?” Cat asks.

“I’m not riled.” Ellie crosses her arms. “You want me to just take that shit from him?”

“It’s not gonna fix the problem,” Cat says, annoyed. “He’s going to be like that whether you talk back or not. If you ignore it, he goes away way faster.”

Ellie swallows and looks at the table. She doesn’t agree, at all, but she doesn’t want to push right now, with things so tenuous between them. Her fingers go to the edge of her bandage, subconsciously.

“Okay,” she says, fighting each syllable. “I can be cool.”

Cat softens a little. “I know you can.” She places her hand in the center of the table.

Ellie reaches out and takes it.

\--

Later, Cat helps Ellie peel the bandage off her tattoo. The skin is angry and red, liquid oozing at one edge. Cat cleans it off carefully.

They still haven’t talked about it. Now, too, they say nothing.

Things don’t feel so easy or simple with Cat anymore.

\--

When Ellie gets home, her guitar is leaning against the wall by her front door. Under the porch light, the moth is barely visible.

She takes it, spares one glance at Joel’s house, and goes inside.


	15. Love II

Patrol with Astrid almost feels like patrolling alone. Astrid doesn’t say much, doesn’t second-guess or criticize. When Ellie moves into a new room or building, Astrid just follows, silent backup at her shoulder. There’s a strange trust between them, the kind that doesn’t require words or confessions. It’s a baser trust, an animal trust: one of practicality only.

\--

After patrol, Cat brings Ellie back to her house, to the red gloom of her bedroom. They don’t talk much; they don’t touch, either. They sit near each other, back in orbit, close but never colliding. They drift in the silence.

\--

Finally, it becomes too much: the silence around them, the silence inside her, the great yawning emptiness.

“Are you actually going to forgive me?” Ellie asks. Her voice is strained.

Cat looks at her, maybe angry, maybe sad. Her expression is blank. “Are you actually going to try?”

“Try to forgive you?” Ellie asks, baffled.

Cat frowns. “Try to trust me,” she corrects. “Try to be honest with me. You said you would try, and ever since then, you just sit there like a rock.”

Ellie opens her mouth; shuts it. “I thought you wanted me to,” she says. “You don’t say anything. What am I supposed to say?”

Instead of making Cat angry, it makes her sad; it makes her withdraw. She looks down and rubs her fingers over the coiled snake on her arm. “I thought if I gave you time, you’d come to me,” she says.

“I’m right here,” Ellie says. Again, her voice betrays her fears.

“You know what I mean,” Cat says, and it comes out jagged, painful. She shuts her eyes and touches them.

“I’m not like you,” Ellie stammers. “I can’t just—just open my mouth and just—say everything I’m thinking.”

Cat looks at her sharply. “Can you say _anything_ you’re thinking?”

Ellie works her jaw again, trying to force words out. Dread settles heavy in her stomach: She knew she couldn’t give Cat what she needed. Knew something this good couldn’t last.

“I think…”

What can she even say? That she feels empty, betrayed? Unmoored? Utterly alone?

Cat stares—her face hard, her eyes hard. Ellie falters. Her voice dies out.

Cat waits a long time—longer than Ellie probably deserves—and then she looks away, her face crumpling. “I don’t think I can do this, Ellie.”

“Do what?” Ellie asks helplessly.

“How am I supposed to be with you if I can’t get close to you?” Cat asks. “You can laugh and deflect and joke with everyone else, but being in a relationship means you have to do more than that with me.”

“We do more than that,” Ellie says, looking down at her hands. They used to do more than that, anyway. They haven’t even kissed since the night after Ellie got back.

“That’s not what I mean,” Cat says, and she almost sounds bitter. It’s startling. When Ellie looks up, Cat’s expression is pained—hurting. “I need _this_.” Cat presses her palm against Ellie’s heart, hard. It almost feels like a slap.

Ellie puts her hand over Cat’s. “You have it,” she whispers. Her heart thunders against her sternum, like it’s trying to get out, like it wants Cat to rip it out of her chest.

Cat shakes her head. Tears bead at the corners of her eyes. “You’re not hearing me, babe,” she whispers.

Ellie looks down. The black fern winds up her arm, twisting over their hands like overgrowth. There’s a tattoo on Cat’s bicep that Ellie doesn’t recognize. It’s a tiny moth.

Ellie drags her eyes up to Cat, feeling that dread, that certainty creep over her.

“We’re over, aren’t we?” Ellie says, the words barely voiced.

Cat tugs her hand out from under Ellie’s and places it tenderly on her cheek. She draws Ellie in and presses their foreheads together; her eyes close and the tears squeeze out. Ellie watches her, terrified.

“I really loved you,” Cat says softly.

“I still love you,” Ellie says. Her throat feels clogged; her eyes are hot, blurred with tears.

Cat opens her eyes and strokes Ellie’s cheek. “Sometimes, that’s not enough.”

\--

It’s not even dinnertime yet, when Ellie gets home. She slows to a stop in the yard, struck by the incongruity of her inner turmoil and the sunny afternoon, the birds chirping, the leaves whispering in the breeze.

Joel’s house looms over her, casting her in shadow.

\--

Strangely, crying herself out seems to curb the void. Maybe because crying like this, messy, loud, unfiltered—it’s so human. It might be the most human she’s felt since Salt Lake.

Crying feeds her belly, too. Her appetite never appears. Instead, she wipes her dry, puffy face on her sleeve and drags herself across the room to retrieve her guitar.

It’s not dirty, but she wipes it off with the hem of her shirt, anyway. For all its symbolism, it’s the same guitar it’s always been, the wood and strings familiar in her hands.

For the last time, she plays Cat’s song. She mixes the chorus, the verses, the bridge. Mixes singing and crying. The song is endless. She plays it all night.

When she’s done, the tears stop, too.

\--

Dina meets Ellie at her door in the morning. For an insane instant, Ellie wonders if Cat already told the whole world their business and Dina came to comfort or pity her.

Dina looks at her in genuine surprise. “You look like shit.”

Ellie tugs the door closed a little too hard behind her. “Yeah, talk dirty to me,” she grumbles.

“What happened to you?” Dina asks carefully.

The wound feels too fresh to air out. “Didn’t sleep well,” she says, not quite a lie. Together, they start out of the yard. “Why the personal touch this morning?”

“Woke up early and thought, what better way to totally spoil a good mood than to go see Ellie before work?”

“Psh. I’m a good mood machine,” Ellie says, unable to lend the joke the bravado it requires.

“Gross,” Dina jokes back, but she looks at Ellie with concern. Ellie pulls one of the cords on her hoodie, trying to even them out. “You sure you’re okay?” Dina asks. “You seem really… off.”

“I’m just off, Dina,” Ellie sighs. Her eyes linger on Joel’s house as she closes the yard gate.

Behind her, Dina says, “Need somebody to turn you on?”

When Ellie turns, Dina has one eyebrow up, a tentative smirk on her lips.

Half a laugh bubbles up. Ellie pushes Dina lightly in the chest. “You fucking wish.”

“There we go.” Dina grins, satisfied, and turns back toward the path. Ellie watches her, her hair up in a long ponytail, her steps light.

\--

Astrid comes over as Ellie climbs onto Shimmer. “You look like shit,” she offers.

“Thanks,” Ellie says. “It’s this new look I’m going for.”

Astrid snorts. “Fair enough.”

\--

After they write in the logbook, Astrid walks outside and climbs up onto one of the ski lift seats hovering a few feet above the ground. She looks down at Ellie, and Ellie somehow knows to climb up beside her.

Ellie braces herself for Astrid to speak, but Astrid’s quiet for a long time, just looking out at the view. Ellie fiddles with the neck of her sweatshirt and leans on the armrest. Astrid’s so quiet, Ellie can’t help but feel like her talking would feel just like Joel talking, and she’s not ready for that.

But Astrid never does say anything. Eventually, she hops off the chair and walks back toward the horses, not even offering Ellie a hand down.

Ellie looks out at the view for another moment and sucks in a deep lungful of autumn air. Inside her, the screaming void is quiet.

\--

Back at the stable, there’s no one leaning against the fence, no one looking for her.

Ellie takes her time, walking Shimmer to the stall herself and taking some time to brush her. When she walks back outside, most of the patrollers have disappeared. Jesse waves goodbye to Maria and catches sight of her.

“What’re you up to now?” he asks.

For some reason, inexplicably, Ellie gets the feeling that he knows. As if to make sure, her eyes go automatically to the fence again, to the hole where Cat used to stand.

“Nothing, really.”

\--

Ellie’s never been in Jesse’s house, or spoken to his parents in person, until now. Jesse leads her up the stairs, and for the first time, it registers that this looks kind of suggestive, following him up to his room like this.

She hesitates in the doorway, wondering if she needs to make anything clear, and sees Jesse placing a jug of moonshine on the windowsill. “Come on,” he says, pointing at the roof.

“You suggesting we day drink on your roof, twenty feet from your parents?” she asks.

“Just shut up and climb out there,” he says with a smirk.

She climbs past him out the window, mindful of the jug. Out on the roof, she crouches awkwardly, her shoes gripping the rough shingles.

Jesse comes out after her and grabs the jug. “This way,” he gestures, leading her over to a nook between two dormer windows. He sits with a heavy, relaxed sigh. “Take a load off.”

Ellie picks her way over and carefully sits down, crossing her legs and watching him screw the cap off the jug. She takes it when he offers, but pauses. “Shouldn’t you be hanging out with Dina instead of me right now?” she asks.

“You really gonna be like that when I’m offering to split my private stash with you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Ellie shrugs and takes a swig. It’s awkward with the gallon still full.

“Dina wants another break,” he admits, taking the jug back. He looks at her sideways. “And honestly you looked like you needed a friend today.”

Ellie’s face burns and she turns it away, looking out at Jesse’s neighborhood. Cat’s house is only a few blocks away. “Is it that obvious?” she mutters.

“Maybe not to everyone,” he allows. “You… wanna talk about it?”

Ellie scratches her ear and looks at her lap. “You wanna talk about Dina?”

Jesse considers her for a moment. “Maybe when we get a little farther into this,” he says, lifting the jug and handing it back to her.

Ellie just holds it in her hands at first, her thumb picking at the worn, washed-out label. “When did everything get so fucking hard?” she asks.

When he doesn’t answer immediately, she takes a long pull from the bottle. The whiskey’s better than usual, the burn warmer and less acrylic. It occurs to her that alcohol might’ve been a good solution to try out earlier.

“Is this about your weird camping trip?” Jesse asks eventually. He has the bottle now, balanced on his thigh, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle.

She looks down. “Some.”

Jesse pauses. Then he says, “Dina was real worried about you. We all were.”

Ellie draws in a slow breath. “It was just a camping trip,” she says. She doesn’t have the energy to construct a new lie.

“Maybe,” Jesse hems. “Always unnerving when people just disappear, though.” He smiles at her. “Thought Maria just had enough of your sass and had you dumped outside the walls.”

Ellie snorts. “Way too late for that. She had enough of my sass, like, years ago. Probably the day she met me.”

“She’s not the only one.”

Ellie smirks and shoves his shoulder. “You love it.”

They trade the bottle again in silence. The whiskey is starting to work, warming her, loosening her. She pushes her sleeves up.

“Shit, you got more ink,” Jesse says mildly. He points to the dark, feathered leaves, his finger inches from her skin.

“Oh. Yeah.” Ellie looks at it: the leaves intertwined, the moth spreading hopefully, the divots and wrinkles of the burn beneath, poking out from the elastic cuff.

“It looks awesome.”

Ellie sets the bottle snugly between her legs and runs her finger lightly over the ink. “Thanks.” She blinks, thinking back. “I think you’re the only other person who likes it.”

“Dina said it was cool. Think that was before you added that, though.”

Ellie frowns. That’s news to her.

Jesse reaches over and gingerly pulls the bottle from her lap.

“Sorry.”

“’S fine.” Jesse takes a long pull, then wipes his mouth and stares into the distance.

Ellie eyes him. Somehow, he wears worry without frowning, without really showing it. She wonders if maybe he needed a friend today, too.

“What happened with Dina?” she asks.

Jesse drops his eyes to his lap and fiddles with the bottle. “Same thing that always happens,” he says, shrugging. “Who knows? We’re good, we’re fine, then we’re bad.” He shakes his head.

Ellie chews her lip. What does that mean?

“She said it’s just a break,” he adds. He shakes his head again. “What’s one more, I guess.”

Ellie tries not to roll her eyes. “I give you guys a week ‘til you’re back together.”

Jesse smirks and laughs, humorlessly. “We’ll see. It’s hard to tell with her.”

“Is it?” Ellie raises an eyebrow.

He sees it and laughs for real. “Okay, okay, I know, it seems like we do this all the time.”

“Right. ‘Seems.’” Ellie squints at him.

Jesse laughs and pushes her shoulder. “Okay, fine, we _do_ do this all the time. But what do I know, man? Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the last time.”

Ellie considers that. It’s hard to feel too worried for him, when all he and Dina do is bounce together and apart and back together again. It’s hard to even tell if their breaks are really breaks and not just fights.

“One week,” she says again. It pulls out a tentative half-smile from him. “That’s my bet, anyway.”

He offers her the bottle and she takes another pull. She tries to balance it on the roof so she can stretch her legs out a little, but it tips over and she has to catch it.

“Okay, hotshot, be careful with my hooch,” Jesse teases, grabbing the bottle back from her.

“Your _hooch_? Okay, grandpa.” Ellie sits with her knees up so she can lean on them.

Jesse takes another drink. A leaf blows across the roof in front of them.

“Okay,” Jesse says. “You drank my whiskey, you listened to me whine. Your turn, now.” He holds the whiskey out to her. “Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?”

Ellie takes the bottle from him and just holds it, thoughtful. She swallows and squints out at the houses; the trees; the walls in the distance. “Cat broke up with me. We broke up.”

“Shit,” Jesse says softly. “I’m sorry, man. That sucks.”

Ellie snorts. _That sucks_ sounds way too simple, too small and normal for how she feels.

“Yeah. Well.” She looks at the bottle carefully, then takes another long drink from it.

Jesse watches her. “Broke up, or taking a break?”

Ellie shakes her head and passes back. “Broke, dude. We’re fucking broken.”

They sit for a while, drinking, watching the leaves, the people on the street. Cat’s house isn’t visible from here.

“Maybe we can be wingmen now,” Jesse jokes.

Ellie snorts and looks down at the shingles. “Yeah, good fucking luck.” She rubs her neck and it’s really the whiskey that adds, “All the girls in this town are straight, anyway. And you’re gonna be back with Dina in a week.”

Jesse turns to her and raises an eyebrow. He takes a second, like he’s debating, then he waves his hand between them. “So, no odds of this happening?”

Ellie just about falls off the roof. Then she sees the smirk at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh my god you are _such_ a dick,” she rushes, relieved and annoyed, shoving him and slapping his arm for good measure.

“You should’ve seen your face, though,” he laughs, trying to fend her off.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what I said!”

\--

“Thanks,” Ellie says on her way out, a while later. “I think I did need that.”

“You’re very welcome,” Jesse says. “You sure you don’t wanna stay for dinner?”

Ellie smiles a little. “And explain to your parents why you’re wasted at like five o’clock? Pass.”

Jesse waves her off. “Pussy.”

Ellie smirks. “Rather have that than one of these,” she says, feigning a punch to Jesse’s groin.

He falls for it and blocks, but nothing connects. “Asshole.”

She salutes and heads down the steps. “See you tomorrow.”

“Ellie.”

She turns.

“It’s not your fault, y’know?” He grips the doorjamb. “You’re a good person.”

Ellie bites her lip. “Good night, Jesse.”

\--

Ellie intends to go home, but when she grabs for the doorknob, she realizes it’s the wrong shape: a slender handle, not a knob.

She looks up in confusion at Dina’s door. It takes a moment for it to add up.

Figuring, fuck it, she raises her fist to the door—then stops. She tries to take stock of herself. Is she too drunk for this?

Then her fist bangs on the door. Oops.

Dina opens it, frowning, ready to tell her off—and then recognizes her. “Ellie,” she says, surprised. “What’re you doing here?”

A good question. Ellie rocks on her heels and scratches her ear. “I, uh.” She looks down the street. This is the way to Cat’s house. She loses her train of thought.

“Are you drunk?”

When she turns back, Dina looks either disgusted or impressed. Maybe a mix.

Ellie raises her pointer finger, preparing to fight back, and then just says, “That… is possible.”

Dina snorts and one side of her mouth lifts in a smile. “Come in, before you fall on your ass.”

Ellie follows her inside. It smells good inside. Smells like food. Ellie’s stomach gurgles in response.

“I guess you’re probably hungry too, huh?” Dina says, shaking her head and walking back to the stove. “You’re lucky I’m so generous. And you’re so pitiful.”

Ellie walks over to Dina’s dresser, where she has a bunch of candles and a fancy candleholder. “I am not pitiful,” she says, belatedly.

“Uh huh,” Dina says without looking, “definitely not at all pitiful to be completely fucking hammered at like four in the afternoon. Very commendable. Impressive, really.”

“I’m very impressive,” Ellie says, dipping her finger in the groove at the top of the nearest candle. The wax is soft and dry.

“Quit fingering my candles and come sit down.”

Ellie immediately blushes, bright and hot as a light bulb, and shuffles over to the couch, where Dina sets two bowls on the coffee table.

“Oh, you’re the best,” Ellie gushes, plopping down on the floor and shoveling grilled veggies into her mouth.

“Wow,” Dina says, sitting slowly on the couch. “Do you think you could eat grosser? Like, if you tried?”

Ellie glares at her and starts chewing with her mouth open.

“Alright, I stand corrected,” Dina says, doing a couple slow claps and then picking up her own bowl to start eating.

“Why’d you make so much food, anyway?” Ellie asks once she swallows. “Were you expecting somebody?”

Dina shakes her head. “Nope, no hot dates for me. These were just about to go bad.”

Ellie remembers Jesse said they just broke off again. She aims her eyes back down at her food.

“So,” Dina says casually, “you here to tell me what’s going on with you?”

Ellie gulps. “No.”

Dina’s eyes flash. Her eyes are so pretty and dark, even from far away. Her skin looks soft.

Ellie snaps her gaze back to her food.

“You looked like death warmed over this morning,” Dina recounts slowly, “and now you’re wasted on my floor in the middle of the afternoon when we have patrol tomorrow. Not typical Ellie behavior.”

Ellie shakes her head. “Jesse fed me whiskey,” she says to the corn and peppers in the bowl. “Not my fault.” She eats another bite. “You know this is so good? I didn’t know you could cook this good.”

Ellie chances a look over, but Dina just snorts and goes back to eating, shaking her head. “Of course he did.”

Ellie realizes she broke her own rule of not bringing up Jesse to Dina. She hurries to wolf down the rest of her bowl. “I should get out of your hair,” she says, around the last bite.

“You don’t have to go,” Dina says. “You could stay and hang out.”

Ellie puts the bowl down too hard and it clatters. “Um, I think I’m too tired. I didn’t sleep great.”

Dina looks at her suspiciously. “You sure you’re okay to get home like this?” She almost looks concerned. “Do you need me to walk you?”

Walking home with Dina sounds like a very bad idea right now. Yet, Ellie hears her own voice saying, “Yeah, walk with me.”

\--

This is the best bad idea Ellie’s ever had. Or, maybe Dina had it. Dina’s the one who loops their arms together, even though Ellie isn’t really drunk enough to need help walking. Ellie’s warm and tingly on the side Dina keeps brushing against, bumping into. She’s close enough that Ellie can smell her hair.

It seems like the whiskey should be wearing off after all that food, but her system doesn’t seem to have balanced that out yet.

“Easy, tiger,” Dina says gently when Ellie tries to walk past the turn. Ellie lets herself be guided around the corner.

Ahead, suddenly, Ellie sees Cat up the street, right when Cat sees her. Cat stops, and Ellie apparently stops, too, because Dina’s hand tugs a little.

Cat looks at Ellie and then at Dina. Ellie stares at Cat.

Thoughts swim through her head like fish. She can’t grasp any of them.

“Ellie?”

Dina’s face is blurry. Why?

Dina wipes tears from Ellie’s cheek.

Oh.

“Come on. We’re almost there.”

\--

Dina doesn’t say anything, but she does it in a nice way, instead of an angry way. She doesn’t tease when Ellie fumbles with the key. She leads Ellie to the bed and sets her down. The bed feels nice. Ellie’s body feels so heavy.

“Need to brush my teeth,” Ellie mumbles.

Dina ignores her and unties her shoes.

“You don’t need to do that.”

Dina looks up at her, but doesn’t answer. She pulls the shoes off and tosses them at the shoe rack, then walks out of view. Water runs. Dina comes back and puts a glass of water on the nightstand.

Ellie swallows hard and realizes she’s stopped crying.

Dina hesitates with her hand on the doorknob.

“You’ll feel better in the morning,” she promises. She shuts the door tight behind her.


	16. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie is reunited with some items of significance.

After a week, it still doesn’t feel any easier to get up in the morning, but it does feel like she’s getting better at it. She still carries that void, that lonely, empty otherness, but she feels less alone than she did the night she got home.

Then, when Ellie shows up at the gate for patrol, there’s no sign of Astrid, and Maria points her over to where Joel’s standing.

“You two are running out by that hotel you started clearing,” Maria tells them. Ellie shifts her weight so Shimmer’s body blocks her view of Joel.

“Just check the streets. The two of you shouldn’t be clearing buildings that size on your own.” She gives Joel a meaningful glance that implies he already got an earful about that decision.

Maria’s eyes slide to Ellie’s. “Hear me?”

Ellie doesn’t give her the rise she’s waiting for. “Yeah,” she says, climbing onto Shimmer and not looking at Joel.

Maria walks off to assign the other pairs. Joel’s gaze is heavy on her. He moves his horse a step closer and tries, “How ya doing, kiddo?”

A glance confirms Maria is looking at them. Ellie grips the reins and says, “Fine.” The gate pulls open and Ellie waits; when Joel doesn’t move, she waves forward, avoiding his eyes.

He takes the hint and takes off onto the trail.

\--

“You, uh, remember this route much?” he calls back to her.

Ellie doesn’t say anything. With no one else around them, she doesn’t have to pretend things are fine. After her pause draws out too long, Joel turns halfway around in his saddle, as if Shimmer’s hoofbeats don’t make it clear she’s still behind him.

She stares at him, letting that deep emptiness seep out into her eyes, her jaw, her hands on the reins. He turns away again.

\--

They ride in a bigger loop than she took with Tommy last time. Near the stream leading up to the pitfall by the hotel, Ellie spots a runner staggering through the brush and picks it off with her rifle. Joel startles at the gunshot and looks in time to see the runner fall; he looks back at her, wearing that grimace he makes when he feels several emotions at once.

Ellie puts the rifle back over her shoulder and looks away.

\--

Ellie nudges Shimmer to speed up and overtakes Joel to follow the stream up toward the hotel from the side. She hears Joel following.

She guides Shimmer right up to the asphalt wall at the far edge of the pit, where she and Joel had wanted to go, last time. To Shimmer, she murmurs, “Stay still, now,” and then she carefully climbs to her feet on the saddle.

“Ellie, be careful,” Joel says, apparently unable to help himself.

She ignores him and jumps for the lip of the pit, catching it with her fingertips and scrabbling her sneakers against the pavement to crawl up over the side. She hears him mutter “Goddamn” and it’s like she’s looking him right in the face, she can see it so clearly in her mind.

At the top, she gets to her feet and walks straight for the music store.

\--

She’s covered two blocks by the time his heavy footsteps come up to her. He draws up next to and a little behind her, leaving more space than he usually would. “You’re like a goddamn monkey,” he says.

Joel’s never been more talkative than he has today, when all she wants is his silence.

When she doesn’t answer, he draws his rifle and holds it awkwardly. Probably just to do something with his hands.

The music store door is barricaded, but the display window is broken out already. Ellie hops inside and draws her knife. There’s a runner shivering and gibbering in the corner, his bloodied fingers reaching out for a dusty cello, then drawing back, then reaching out again. She creeps up behind and opens his throat in one smooth motion.

She hears Joel moving toward the back of the store, then the dying gasp of another infected.

“Think we’re clear,” he says, just loud enough for her to hear.

Ellie stands straight and scans the walls. The guitar stuff is near the back, where the top of Joel’s head sticks out behind a row of shelves. She steels herself and walks over.

Joel must have the same idea, because when she gets there, he’s scanning the pegboard for guitar strings with his arms folded.

They spot them at the same time.

“Oh—sorry,” he says, withdrawing his hand so she can grab them. Ellie ignores him and strips all the packs off the pegs and into her bag. She’s not sure if the different packs are different brands or different types of strings, but she can figure it out at home.

“You got all them?” he asks, touching the strap of his bag.

She scans the wall one last time. “Yes.”

Joel points to something on another peg. “You might want one of—”

“I’m fine,” she snaps, zipping her bag closed and throwing it on her back on her way back to the front.

\--

Outside, she wipes off her knife; checks and reloads her rifle. Joel clambers out of the display window and hesitates.

“Where now?” she asks, rubbing a scuff off the barrel, not looking at him.

It’s stupid, but even though she’s not looking, it’s still like she can see him, staring at her a second, scratching his beard, looking around in thought. They’ve been around each other so long, there’s no way to really erase him, nor to build a border around Salt Lake City and the chasm that opened between them.

“Uh, might as well check up the street some, I suppose,” he says.

Ellie shoulders the rifle and looks to the side of him, past him. “Lead on.”

\--

The streets and nearby stores are mostly clear, but for a handful of infected scattered around. Far back, in a cleared-out bar, Ellie finds a hero card taped to the cash register.

“Found one of them cards?” he asks, unnecessarily.

Ellie tucks it in her pack and brushes past him.

\--

Finally, at the lookout, Joel apparently can’t take it anymore. Ellie’s written their names and the date in the book and started her summary when he says, “Listen, I ain’t never meant—”

“No.” She scrawls an _E_ and sets the pen down; turns to face him. “I meant it, Joel. You and I are done.”

Joel looks at her, pained. He opens his mouth and shuts it twice before Ellie just leaves him there. Climbs on Shimmer and heads back up the trail.

\--

Joel doesn’t say anything else, the whole ride back. Ellie just looks at the trail, feeling empty.

\--

That night, Ellie spends over an hour restringing the guitar with one of the packs from the music shop. She unwinds the first old string slowly and carefully, drawing a sketch of each step so she can repeat the process in reverse. When she finishes and tunes up, she allows herself a moment of self-congratulations.

\--

Astrid is back the next day. Joel sticks with Tommy on the far side of the field.

\--

Ellie walks out of the stable slowly, aimlessly, the way she has every day since Cat ended things. She doesn’t have anywhere to go, really, or anything to do, most days. For over a week, she’s just gone home and eaten by herself, drawing or playing guitar, trying not to think about how she doesn’t have anyone to share those things with, anymore. She even traded a day off to Bonnie just to have something to do.

Today, Jesse comes up beside her.

“You gonna offer to get me drunk again?” she asks.

Jesse smiles, but it’s grim, not reaching his eyes. “You wish. I actually have something for you.” He slides his bag off his arm and opens it.

“What is—oh.”

It’s her Walkman.

Jesse holds it out, awkwardly. Ellie just looks at it.

“Cat, um—well. I said I’d get it to you.”

“Right.”

The Walkman hovers. Ellie doesn’t move.

“Here.” Jesse steps to the side and tugs Ellie’s backpack open; dumps the Walkman inside; tucks the headphones in after.

“Thanks,” Ellie manages as he pulls the zipper closed.

Jesse lingers next to her. “How’re you holding up?”

Ellie tries for a smile. “Been better,” she admits. “Been worse. How’s…”

She looks away. She shouldn’t ask, but she can’t stop herself.

“How’s Cat?”

Jesse rubs his neck. “I’d say she’s been better.”

Ellie nods, looking at the fence. As usual, there’s no one standing there. No one waiting.

“Why don’t you come grab dinner with us?”

“Us?” Ellie turns back. Now she sees Dina, walking out of the stable, wiping her hands on her jeans.

“Yeah,” Jesse says, glancing over at Dina.

“Told you. One week.” Ellie looks at Jesse and tries to laugh. “Called it.”

Jesse smiles at her. “That you did. C’mon, say yes. I promise it won’t be awkward.”

Dina comes up, smiling at her. “What’re we talking about?” she asks Jesse.

“Just trying to talk Ellie into coming with us to the diner.” Jesse nudges Ellie’s arm.

“I don’t really wanna impose,” Ellie says, looking anywhere but Jesse and Dina.

“You’re not imposing.” Jesse bends to Dina and says, “Ellie’s still recovering from C-A-T.”

Ellie feels her face getting hot. “I can hear you,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Literally standing right here, old enough to spell.”

Dina looks at Ellie carefully. She leans in to Jesse, conspiratorially, and says at normal volume, “She’s still got her claws in her, huh?”

Jesse stage-whispers, “It’s a paw-sibility.”

Ellie glares at them. “Guys.”

“You gotta be kitten me,” Dina says, starting to grin.

“You guys are such assholes.” Ellie turns and starts walking toward the diner.

Jesse and Dina join her in lock-step. “Don’t worry,” Jesse says, “it won’t last _fur_ -ever.”

“Oh my god fuck you both.”

\--

“Honestly, I feel like you wasted a lot of opportunities,” Dina says into her beer. “You love puns more than anyone alive and yet I never heard you make a cat joke.”

“She doesn’t like them,” Ellie says quietly.

Jesse looks at Ellie and then Dina. To Dina, he whispers, “Too soon. Tone it down.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “You could at least pretend you aren’t actively enjoying this.”

“Don’t worry, we’re enjoying giving you grief, not enjoying your pain,” Jesse says with a smirk.

“Yeah, that distinction is not really coming through for me.”

“So sensitive,” Dina teases.

Ellie pushes her food around with her fork. “Since when do you and Cat hang out, anyway?” she asks Jesse.

“Our moms know each other. And she lives kinda close by.” Jesse shrugs. “After I talked with you, I figured it would be friendly to check in on her, too. Unless… that’s not okay with you.”

Ellie stares pointedly at her plate and nowhere else. “No. I mean, I don’t care. I don’t want you to, like, ostracize her. Or me, I guess. I hope.”

“Oookay,” Dina says, “I think Depressed Ellie needs a new conversation topic.” When Ellie looks up, Dina’s looking at her gently, her eyes and brows soft. “Why don’t you tell us something cool about space or something?”

Ellie snorts. She doesn’t want to take the bait, but she can’t help herself. “Everything about space is cool.”

“You’re a space nerd?” asks Jesse, surprised.

“What’s it to you?” Ellie asks, perking up a little.

“She’s every kind of nerd, stupid.” Dina nudges Jesse. “And she has a space pin on her backpack. Duh.”

Jesse turns his beer mug in his hand. “Space sounds scary to me. Up there all alone, surrounded by miles and miles of nothing? I dunno.”

Ellie looks down at her fork. “You can be alone anywhere.”

Dina and Jesse turn to each other. Then, Dina scoots down—and disappears. Ellie looks up just as Dina pops up beside her, wriggling out from under the table to sit in the booth next to her. Dina ducks under Ellie’s arm, and Ellie drops her fork and lifts, making space as Dina wraps around her from the side.

“You’re not alone, Ellie,” Dina says. Her face is so close; Ellie’s arm lands around Dina’s shoulders, on the rounds and points of her muscle and bone, strong and solid under her sweater. Dina’s arm runs behind her back, her fingers curled at Ellie’s ribs.

Ellie feels her face flush—betraying her. She looks at Jesse, but he just smiles at Dina, oblivious. Maybe Ellie is the only one who feels this. Maybe to everyone else, this is normal.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, her hand frozen in the air next to Dina’s shoulder. She’s afraid if she touches her back, something will happen.

The chrysalis cracks a little more.

\--

After dinner, Dina attaches herself to Ellie again.

“I’m not on, like, suicide watch or anything,” Ellie says. “You guys can go hang out or whatever if you want.”

“Nah, I’m tired of him,” Dina says with an easy smile.

Jesse shakes his head knowingly. “You guys have fun. Don’t forget, we’re heading out early tomorrow.”

Ellie gives him another fake salute with her free hand.

Jesse walks away and Ellie turns to Dina, hanging on her arm. “Alright, barnacle, what’re we doing now?”

Dina shakes her head. “No, I’m the ship; you’re the barnacle.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say, S.S. Stupidface. Where are we going?”

“Let’s go watch a movie.”

\--

Ellie flips through the cases for the fourth time. “Wait a minute,” she says, “when did you get a DVD player anyway? Used to be all you had was those old tape things.”

“I found one on patrol,” Dina says, placing the pot back on the burner. The kernels inside start popping, and Dina shakes the pot back and forth.

The DVD player makes a whirring noise. Ellie presses the skip and stop buttons, trying to get to the menu.

“You got that?” Dina asks, finishing up the popcorn. “Did you break my brand new DVD player?”

“Shut up.” Ellie presses skip again and the menu loads. “Like anything we have is brand new.”

Dina comes over with one big bowl. “I feel like you’re just trying to distract me from the fact that you totally broke my new-to-me DVD player.”

“I didn’t break shit. Look.” Ellie starts the movie and stands up.

“My hero. Come sit.”

Ellie turns. Dina’s lying back against the pillows, one arm curved behind her head. Ellie must look a little too long, because Dina lifts her eyebrows.

Ellie crawls over and sits cross-legged near the middle of the open side. Dina grabs the back of her shirt and pulls; in surprise, she topples right over onto her back, spilling some of the popcorn. “Fuck, what the fuck?”

“Quit acting like a weirdo and sit with me,” Dina scolds, picking up a piece of popcorn from the bedspread and popping it in her mouth.

Embarrassed, Ellie crawls back against the headboard, still leaving space between them. Dina closes the space immediately, pressing up against her, cuddling into her shoulder.

Words clog in Ellie’s throat. What is Dina doing?

It feels too scary to ask.

Dina takes another handful from the bowl, nestled between them. Ellie can feel Dina’s body compensating, balancing as she reaches out, reaches back. It feels intimate in a way she hasn’t felt since Cat. Her pulse beats loudly in her ears.

“I have a question,” Dina says softly, looking at the screen.

Ellie swallows. “Are you gonna ask me who everybody is again? That’s the main dude, he’s—”

“No!” Dina lifts up to punch Ellie in the shoulder. She braces herself like that, leaning heavily on one arm and looking at Ellie, their faces close. “What did you mean, earlier? That you can be alone anywhere?”

Ellie looks at her, at her eyes, open and soft. Worried. She can’t look away.

“I…” Ellie bites her lip and shrugs. “Just… that, I guess.”

Dina softens. “Do you feel like you’re alone?” she asks, uncharacteristically gentle.

Ellie looks at her, afraid to be honest, afraid to lie. “Sometimes,” she says.

Dina’s eyes tip down, just for a second, then back up. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

What the fuck does that mean?

“I… what?” Ellie swallows, her throat raw and dry.

“You have friends here,” Dina says. “We’re here for you.”

“Oh.” Ellie wets her lips and looks at the TV and then at her lap. “Yeah, um. Thanks, or whatever.”

Dina scoffs. “Thanks Ellie, you make it feel so worth it, being friends with you.” But, as she says it, she drops her arm and leans against Ellie again, cuddling along her side and tucking in against her shoulder.

Her hair smells clean and a little sweet. Ellie looks at the screen again. “You’re such a sap.”

“Takes one to know one.”

\--

By the end of the movie, the bowl is empty, and Dina’s moved to lay her head in Ellie’s lap instead. Ellie stays very still the whole time, torn between her heart, still raw and healing from Cat, and her body, which has its own responses to Dina being so close.

When the credits roll, Dina nuzzles against Ellie’s thigh, a little pointedly. “You should just stay over,” she says. “It’s already dark out. We’re both working tomorrow anyway.”

Ellie shakes her head, hard, even though Dina can’t see it. “I should go home.”

Dina rolls onto her back and frowns. “Are you sure?”

Looking down at her, at her hair spilling loose over Ellie’s lap, the crease between her eyebrows, her sleepy eyes, Ellie bites her lip and nods.

\--

At home, Ellie opens her bag to get her journal out, just to draw and wind down enough to sleep. When she reaches in, she touches cool plastic.

The Walkman.

Ellie holds it and looks at it for a long time, like it’s a fossil she’s studying. It’s the same beat-up Walkman she’s had forever. The headphone cord dangles innocently into the darkness of her backpack. The tape is almost completely rewound. She knows, _knows_ , it’s on the first song.

Quickly, almost violently, she pops the Walkman open and grabs the tape out. She picks the ribbon with her nail and slides her thumb under it, prepared to rip the whole tape out, the way she did with the other tape halfway home from Salt Lake.

This time, something stops her.

She looks down into the bag, at the Walkman that followed her through so much. It played Riley’s tape for months after Riley disappeared, before the tape got lost in the mall. It played her old tape all the way across the country, from Boston to Jackson on a doomed suicide mission. It played this tape, over and over, for Cat, when they were in love.

Her hands shake, just a little.

Gently, she slides her thumb out from under the ribbon. She sticks her pinkie in the spokes of the reel and carefully winds the ribbon back inside the cassette.

She tucks the cassette into her desk drawer, at the very back, and closes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for your patience guys - took the weekend off to recharge a little.


	17. A Real Big Idiot

For all Ellie’s been hiding at home, hurting and pining and stewing, she won’t let herself examine why things ended with Cat. It sounds so simple; it almost feels more likely that she’s misremembering what happened.

Is it so hard to say things out loud?

One night, she tries, alone in her apartment while she’s scrubbing laundry on the washboard. She tries to tell the air, the empty room, what happened in Salt Lake. What happened in Colorado. What happened in Boston.

Even now, she comes up empty. There’s no sound but her hands on the washboard; her knee hitting the tub; the susurrus of fabric slipping against the water.

\--

“I’m just saying, I think it’d be good for you, to go.”

“Uh huh.”

Ellie hears Dina move around on the couch. She makes a second attempt at drawing the curve of a shadow. Fucks it up again. Erases.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, you think it’d be ‘good for me’ to go to the bonfire.”

Dina appears next to her, leaning on the kitchen counter. Ellie looks up, raising an eyebrow.

Dina tips her head down to make a serious face. “Ellie, I mean it. It’s been, like, two months since…” Dina still won’t say Cat’s name around her. Ellie looks back down at her sketch.

Dina straightens up and crosses her arms. “I’m just saying, you should get back out there. Not just hide away in here forever.”

“I’m not hiding,” Ellie says evenly. She tries the curve a third time, going slower. “And need I remind you I already know everyone who’s even gonna go? Not sure what you think is gonna happen.”

“I just think your social life could use a little sustenance. I swear if I didn’t come visit you, you wouldn’t talk to anyone ever.”

Ellie rolls her eyes and swivels to face her. “I talk to Astrid at work,” she counters. “And Jesse. And Amara at the market.”

“You cannot convince me that Astrid talks,” Dina says, waving dismissively. “Will you just come, please?”

Ellie eyes her, weighing her options. “If I say no, you’re just gonna keep doing this until I say yes, aren’t you?”

Dina winks. “That’s what I’m here for.”

\--

True to form, Dina’s standing there at the fence when Ellie gets back from patrol, ready to drag her along. It’s a little weird to see her there, in almost the exact spot Cat used to wait in. The echo doesn’t hurt the way it would have a few weeks ago, but it still taps into that empty feeling inside, like tossing a pebble in a pond.

“This really isn’t necessary,” Ellie says, her hands stuffed in her warm jacket pockets.

Dina shrugs and smiles at her. “It’s not about you,” she says easily. “I was coming to say hi to Japan.”

“On your day off? From outside the fence?” Ellie smiles a little.

“Japan has great hearing.”

“I’ll bet.”

Then that pause happens—that pause between bouts, when the energy buzzes between them, bouncing with nowhere to go. The pauses happen more often when Dina and Jesse are on a break, like today.

“Let’s go,” Dina says abruptly, swinging the gate open.

Ellie obliges. “Go where, exactly?” she asks.

“We’re going to pick up your guitar.”

Ellie raises her eyebrows. “Oh, we are, are we?”

“Yep. I know you have some song in your back pocket, ready to play. You can only reread the same ten comic books so many times when you’re moping in your room alone every night.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I have almost the complete twenty-four issue run now,” Ellie shoots back. She flips through her playbook in her mind, trying to think of any song she’s been playing that isn’t tellingly funereal. Lately, she’s been playing a lot of mournful “Wayfaring Stranger,” and there’s no way she’s going to invite that discussion. As long as Dina doesn’t catch her being a super depressed sad-sack, she can mostly avoid talking about it.

Dina smirks. “Wow, my mistake. My sincerest apologies. Will everyone please accept this correction with my regrets?”

“Fuck off,” Ellie grumbles.

Dina hooks her hand on Ellie’s arm at her bent elbow. Ellie bites her lips into her mouth and looks down at the ground, at the crunchy leaves going soft under the first snowfall.

Another pause.

“I wonder,” Dina says thoughtfully, “if we could get the gang to do a bonfire down by the lake sometime, instead of at the pit.”

Ellie frowns. “Like, sneak out?”

“Yeah.” Dina grins, lopsided, and jostles their arms. “What, big bad Ellie scared of sneaking out at night?”

“Hardly.” Ellie chews the inside of her cheek. “Just doesn’t feel worth it if we get caught. I don’t even like going to these in the first place.”

“You always seem to have a good time once you’re there,” Dina says. Ellie looks over and Dina’s eyes flash.

Ellie looks away, feeling her cheeks getting pink. “That’s just the alcohol,” she mutters.

“Exactly,” Dina singsongs.

\--

As Ellie lays the strap flat across her chest, she tentatively decides on the least sad song she’s been working on. It’s still pretty fucking sad, probably, but it seems better to play something sad that she knows how to play, rather than wing it in front of everyone she knows.

“You okay? You look a little…”

When she looks up, Dina’s looking at her, that look of hesitant concern that usually pairs with her trailing off.

“I’m fine. Let’s go.”

\--

The minute they step through the gate, Dina lets Ellie loose and gravitates to the group. Ellie’s avoided group gatherings for a while, so she feels a little surprised, then a little stupid for being surprised.

“Hey, you came,” says Jesse when she walks over to him for a drink.

“Yeah.” She scans the group. Cat isn’t there.

Jesse looks in the same direction, but his eyes snag on Dina. He looks a little melancholy, looking at her. Ellie’s sure it’s only a fraction of how ridiculously fucking sad she looks whenever she’s not actively smiling, so she doesn’t say anything.

“You gonna play for us tonight?” he says, brightening just a little, gesturing at the guitar.

Ellie lifts her hand in Dina’s direction. “Supposedly. Got bullied into it by the emcee over there.”

“Of course.” Jesse shakes his head. “C’mon.”

\--

Jesse actually sits next to her for a while. He doesn’t really talk, but Ellie doesn’t really notice, because she’s busy realizing what exactly Dina has been doing with her the past two months—which is apparently absolutely nothing out of the fucking ordinary because all she’s done since they got there is sit all up close and touchy with almost every single fucking person in the circle. Touching everyone on the arm. Looking people right in the eyes. Laughing that way she does.

Fuck.

“She sure puts on a show, huh,” Jesse says dully next to her at one point.

Ellie doesn’t really respond. Apparently Cat didn’t even scratch the surface, saying Ellie was a real big idiot. Right now, she feels like a record-setting idiot, a truly hopeless, pitiful idiot, the biggest idiot ever seen or conceived of, deserving of scientific study and maybe a plaque.

And all this time she thought those pauses, those spaces between them, those looks—that maybe those were the same as the ones she had with Cat, in the beginning, before. That maybe they were a prelude to something else, something she might have to look forward to in her miserable fucking life, if she ever recovered enough to reach for it.

Thank fucking Christ she never actually confronted Dina about it. For once, she’s grateful she’s such a useless fucking coward.

\--

Even aflame with shame and embarrassment, Ellie and whiskey always seem to end up the same way, which is staring at Dina like a huge sap.

It doesn’t take too long for Dina to notice. First, she’s saying something to Andre—something that involves touching his knee, for some reason—and then she’s looking right at Ellie, and even now, even stewing in this absolutely mortifying realization, that look still shoots right down Ellie’s throat to the pit of her stomach.

Fucking enormous fucking idiot.

Dina never lets Ellie get away with it, the way Cat used to. Dina catches her looking, finishes whatever she’s saying, and makes a beeline right for her, as if Ellie’s the one reeling her in and not the fish caught on her hook.

“Hey,” Jesse says when Dina gets there, because he’s still sitting right next to Ellie.

“Jesse,” Dina says, all curt, and she smiles that beautiful fucking smile right at Ellie and then just spins around and sits right between her knees, right up against the log, laying her arms on Ellie’s legs like she’s an armchair. Her body presses against the inside of Ellie’s thighs, inches away from all that boiling shame and embarrassment and heat.

Ellie swallows, hard.

Weirdly, suddenly, she misses Cat. Cat, who meant it, every time she touched her. Cat, who says exactly what she means.

Maybe Cat’s really the brave one.

\--

So, when Dina turns around—way, way too close—and snatches Ellie’s drink out of her hand and smiles that fucking smile, when she says “Are you gonna play for us or what?” and Ellie shoos her out of her lap and hopes the whiskey and the cold explain the red on her cheeks, Ellie starts to play the song she plays when she misses Cat.

Like last time, the hoots die down when everyone realizes she’s playing something serious and quiet. As usual, her eyes are wet by the second verse, her voice breaking as she sings, “ _He worries, did he hear a goodbye?_ ”

Maybe, when Cat asked her to speak, Ellie should have sung instead. Maybe this is the only way to talk about some things.

\--

At the end, Ellie looks at the ground. This time, she’s not worried what the group thinks of her playing; it’s more that the person she’s singing to isn’t here to look at. There’s no sweet, bashful smile waiting for her across the fire. No hand waiting to take hers.

Jesse puts his hand on her shoulder, the weight somehow comforting, like an anchor. “That was really cool,” he says gently.

Chad makes a low whistle and cups his hands behind his head. “Jesus, Ellie, you know any happy songs?”

Dina guts him with her elbow, apparently hard, because he yelps.

“Do you know ‘Don’t Stop Believing’?” Candice asks.

Ellie tries to smile and shakes her head. Undeterred, Candice starts singing it herself, goading Chad and Dina to join her. Ellie sets her guitar down and gets up, ambling back to the jugs balanced on the woodpile.

“Are you okay?”

It’s Jesse, come up beside her. Ellie thumbs her cup, not really intending to drink any more. Jesse leans easily on the woodpile, looking at her.

When she doesn’t say anything, Jesse just waits.

Ellie’s gaze wanders back to the group, belting the lyrics in poor unison. Dina’s conducting with her arms, joyful, or maybe just drunk.

“Is she always like that?” Ellie mumbles.

The question seems to surprise Jesse. He looks over his shoulder at the fire. “Like what?”

This is a mistake. Ellie drags her eyes back to her empty cup, willing herself to just shut up. Usually, she’s so good at that.

“Just, like that. With everyone else.” She feels a stab of guilt and adds, “When you’re right there, you know?”

Jesse shakes his head and says, “Yeah. Pretty sure she’s just trying to make me jealous.” He shrugs. “Can never get her to admit it, though.”

Ellie swallows. “Is it because you’re…” she tries to make a gesture that means _taking a break_.

Jesse seems to understand. “She’s just a real tactile person.” He smiles the universal smile of idiots in love. Stands up straight and rubs his neck. “I love that about her.”

Ellie eyes him, then snorts. “You’re such a sucker,” she says, the words ringing hollow.

“You’re one to talk.” He turns back to her, his eyes a little sharper than usual, his tone a gentle challenge.

Fuck. Ellie looks down at her cup again. Does he mean Cat? Or Dina? She feels guilty all the same.

“It’s been, what, like two months?” he asks, his voice soft. “How long are you gonna pine for her?”

Ellie shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut. “I’m not pining, dude, I’m…” She gropes for the right word. “I’m mourning. It’s not like you and Dina. C… Cat and I are done.”

Jesse chews on that. Candice comes up to refill her cup, scowling at both of them when they don’t move out of her way. As she crunches through the leaves back to the log circle, Jesse touches his chin, then folds his arms and leans back against the wood. “Wonder what that’s like,” he confesses. “Knowing you’re done.”

Ellie laughs humorlessly. “Fucking sucks, is what it’s like.”

Jesse shakes his head. “That’s love for you, man. Fucking sucks.”

Ellie watches the group, goofing off, running around the circle, shouting. Their joy feels distant: unreachable.

“Speaking just for myself, I guess,” Jesse amends, mistaking her silence.

Ellie sets her empty cup down on the pile.

“I dunno,” she mutters, “sounds like a good fucking deal, once it’s gone.”

\--

Ellie slips away without saying goodbye to anyone. Usually, hanging out with people gives her a reprieve from feeling down on herself, but tonight, she feels stupid about Dina and heartsick about Cat and more than a little of that dark void opening up inside her.

On her way around the house, she hears guitar strings—quiet ones. She can make out Joel on his porch, noodling on his guitar.

Add that to the pile.

Ellie cuts around, so she won’t cross his sightline directly, but the music reaches her anyway, drifting on the cold air. She feels a chill when she realizes he’s playing the same song, the song she just played at the bonfire, the one he taught her first, before she learned everything she’s learned since.

The guitar on her back seems to echo, recognizing its own kind, recognizing the reprise.

Are they so similar? Is she so transparent?

Will that be her someday—so broken and desperate and selfish, willing to trade her soul for some shred of who she used to be?

\--

No. She’s just drunk.

She hurries home.

\--

Safe and alone, she stares at the dark ceiling, hot and flustered from the alcohol.

So, she’s been making a fool of herself for months—years, really. Nothing she can do about that, now.

The bigger problem is that she doesn’t know if she can stop. Especially now. She still feels so raw and wounded.

It’s always hardest to be careful when you’re hurting.

\--

Ellie spends most of her day off telling herself she needs space, she needs a break from Dina, she needs a chance to tamp down her feelings so she can act normal—but in the afternoon, her feet carry her to the gates anyway.

No one’s back yet. Ellie tucks the flaps of her shirt closed and zips her coat up. It smells like snow coming.

As the riders trickle in, as Dina scowls at Jesse and then catches sight of Ellie and smiles, Ellie realizes she’s the one in Cat’s spot right now, the one waiting for someone else. Her heart lurches. Is she betraying herself already?

Does Dina already know?

No. She’d have said something. She’d have drawn a line, a boundary.

She wouldn’t do this, now, coming right up to the fence, leaning over it, hovering this close.

“Whatcha doin’? Holding the fence up?”

Ellie looks down at her hands, pale and cold against the wood. “Yeah. Thank god you showed up to help.”

Dina snorts and vaults lightly over the fence. Ellie falls in beside her, same as ever.

“What’d you get up to today?”

Ellie shrugs. “My usual thing. How was patrol?”

“It was fine. Honestly, it’s been so quiet lately, it’s almost boring.” Dina shrugs.

“Yeah, it has been quiet, huh?” Ellie thinks back to her last few weeks, tallying how many infected they’ve even seen.

“Maria said that hordes come through in the winter,” Dina says. “Maybe they just aren’t here yet.”

Ellie nods. “Tommy told me that, too. He made it sound like they already passed through, though. Like they migrate.”

Dina shrugs. “If that’s the case, they’re probably long gone, before the snow.”

Another pause. Dina’s walking close, their elbows and arms bumping. Dina probably doesn’t even notice it. Ellie shifts a little away to make space.

“I’m glad you came last night,” Dina offers.

Ellie looks up sharply, then away. “Uh, yeah. It was fun.”

She feels Dina’s eyes on her. “Probably not quite as fun as that broken glass you were planning to swallow at home, but.”

Ellie makes a shallow laugh. “Yeah, well. What can I say? It’s a great recipe.”

Dina’s quiet for a moment. They glance at each other at the same time. Ellie looks away.

“Do you actually have any fun at those things?” Dina asks, sounding like she has a guess and she’s worried she’s right.

Ellie shrugs. “It’s kind of nice to get out of my head for a while,” she admits, “even if it’s not really my thing.” She doesn’t want to talk about why last night wasn’t as fun as usual.

Dina nods. It’s clear there’s still something bothering her, but she seems to decide not to ask. “The booze wasn’t bad last night,” she offers instead.

“That’s true.” Ellie switches her hands from her jacket pockets to her jeans pockets. They’re on the route to Dina’s place.

“I got a couple people on board for a lakeside bonfire.” When Ellie looks up, Dina’s grinning, that mischievous glint in her eyes.

Ellie’s not sure she can handle another bonfire right now, let alone one outside the walls, when everyone’ll be packing and drinking at the same time.

“Damn, don’t get too excited or anything,” Dina teases, bumping their elbows.

Ellie shakes her head and looks away. “Sounds fun,” she says, not even trying to be convincing.

Dina snorts. “Fun for people who aren’t you, you mean? C’mon, you’re the one who said you need to get out sometimes.”

Ellie gives her a polite smile and shakes her head. “Only sometimes. I think I need some more hermit time to recover.”

Dina narrows her eyes, peering at her, like she’s trying to figure her out. “Is that code for ‘I have such a bad hangover today that I’m never drinking again’?”

Ellie laughs. Before she can reply, Dina hooks her hand on Ellie’s arm, like always. “I hope not, because drunk Ellie might be my favorite Ellie.”

Ellie wants to ask why. Instead, she jokes, “That just sounds predatory.”

Dina laughs. “That’s me. Big-time predator. Fuckin’ mountain lion.”

“Just make sure somebody on this bonfire of yours stays sober enough to shoot the real mountain lions if they show up,” Ellie says.

Dina snorts. “Yes, sir.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“You love it.”

\--

“How come you never play guitar for me?” Dina asks, passing the blunt.

It breaks Ellie from her dissociative musing about how she let herself end up in the exact situation she was trying to avoid: lying on Dina’s bed, Dina’s head on her stomach, way too close, smelling way too good.

She takes a hit before answering. “Because my guitar’s not here,” she says, finally.

Dina lifts her head up and pulls Ellie’s overshirt to the side, then lies back down. Her head is warm through the t-shirt.

Ellie holds the blunt back out to her. Dina reaches up and touches her arm instead, running her fingers over the moth, so lightly it tickles.

Ellie flinches back. “That tickles.”

“Sorry.” Dina cranes her neck and plucks the joint from Ellie’s fingers.

They sit in silence for a minute, smoke drifting above them. Ellie fiddles with the buttons of her shirt, looking at Dina, at the flicker of her closed eyelids, the strong profile of her brow and nose, the flyaways fallen loose from her bun, the tousled collar of her shirt and the smoke she exhales.

Dimly, with none of the alarm it deserves, it occurs to her that she is deeply and utterly fucked.

\--

“You going to that winter dance thing?” Astrid asks on patrol one day in late winter.

Ellie fires, watches the runner drop, and hands the sniper rifle back to Astrid. “Probably not. Why? You asking me out or something?” she jokes drily.

Astrid’s not a joker. She slings the rifle over her shoulder and shrugs. “Heard they bring out the good liquor.”

Ellie eyes her curiously. This might be a record for their longest conversation. “Wouldn’t know,” Ellie answers. “Never been.”

Astrid gives her a look. “Maybe you should,” she says, more an accusation than a suggestion. “You looked like shit for months now.”

Ellie narrows her eyes. “Is dancing a cure for looking like shit?”

Astrid raises an eyebrow. “No. Liquor is.”

\--

Dina and Jesse are back together, so Dina doesn’t have the chance or inclination or whatever to needle Ellie about going to the dance, but as Ellie finishes her dinner that night, she finds she wants to go.

An alien impulse. Unsettling, really.

But, she’s tired of hiding out from the world. She’s not sure why she’s still doing it. Is it really to avoid Cat, or is it just to nurse her wounds and feel sorry for herself? Maybe it’d be good to have a drink and remind herself why she doesn’t like people. Then she can come home and feel relieved.

At least if she’s going alone, going for no one but herself, it doesn’t really matter how she looks or what she does, there. She splashes water on her face and heads out in the same shit she wore on patrol.

\--

She’s never been to the dance before, so Ellie hugs the wall when she gets there, watching groups and couples on the dance floor, clusters of people on the sidelines.

The song changes, and Ellie glances toward the speakers to see Joel talking with Tommy while they close the lid on the record player. It’s starting to feel less painful, less weird, seeing Joel around town living his life without her. He still looks sad about it. She’s not sure how that makes her feel.

The crowd on the dance floor moves into a bigger formation. At the front, Ellie spots Dina, leading a line dance with one of the younger kids, wearing polished brown cowboy boots and laughing in delight.

Ellie turns away to find the bar.

\--

“You were never much of a drinker,” comes Cat’s voice from behind her, and Ellie spills over the edge of the glass.

Ellie looks up warily as Cat comes up to the bar beside her, the bar really being a scarred wooden table covered in empty and half-empty bottles and cups. Cat looks just the same, like it’s been one day and not months, her bangs neat and even, her eyes steady and somber.

Cat doesn’t seem to have any trouble looking Ellie in the eye.

“Hey,” Ellie manages. It comes out high and thin. She looks down at her glass, then out at the room, then back down at her hands.

“Figured you’d be out there line dancing,” Cat says.

Ellie drags her eyes back up. “Yeah, that’s… not really my thing,” she says. It’s a joke, she knows Cat’s joking, so why can’t she joke back?

Now Cat looks down for a second. “I just wanted to say hi,” she says, turning away and scratching her neck. “I didn’t want you to think you couldn’t, if you saw me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ellie says, “of course,” like it’s obvious, like she hasn’t been actively avoiding Cat since they split.

Cat looks at her, and once their eyes lock, Ellie feels frozen, waiting for the judgment or indictment she feels she deserves. Cat seems to want to say something, but instead she says, “Well, have fun.” She glances at the dance floor with a wry smile. “If you can.”

Ellie swallows hard and says, “Yeah, um, you too.”

Cat sweeps away. Ellie stares at her overfull glass on the table, the small sticky puddle of liquor around it, wondering what to do now.

\--

Ellie leans down to sip from the glass enough that it won’t spill, then wipes the rim with her fingers. She goes to lick them clean when Dina pops up beside her. Ellie yanks her hand down and wipes it on her pants.

“Wow, it really is you. Thought I was way drunker than I thought for a second there,” Dina says, panting and grinning. She takes the glass from Ellie’s hand and drinks from it. “What’re you doing here, hermit?”

Ellie stares and stammers, “Just came to people watch. You know.”

“Looked a little hands-on to me,” Dina says, nodding in the direction Cat went.

Ellie starts to look, then thinks better of it. “Oh, um. Yeah.”

Dina sets the glass on the table and leans on it, her arm in Ellie’s space, her body tipped a little towards her. Ellie can feel how warm she is, smell the sweat drying. “You okay?” Dina asks, sincerely. She adds a smirk. “Want me to fuck her up?”

Ellie snorts softly. “No. Uh, thanks, though.”

“Mm-hmm.” Dina bites her lips, searching Ellie’s face. She seems to decide something; she straightens up and takes another sip of Ellie’s drink, then takes Ellie’s hand and wraps it around the glass. “Finish your drink. You’re dancing with me.”

\--

Maybe that’s the moment when Ellie realizes she’s never going to draw that boundary with Dina. Even when she wants to, even when she needs to, she can’t do it.

So, she knocks the whiskey back and lets Dina lead her onto the floor.

\--

It’s another fast dance, at least, and Dina drags Ellie back to the front of the line. “I don’t know about this,” Ellie says as Dina physically places her in the line by the shoulders.

Dina flashes that joyful, wicked grin. “It’ll be fun,” she says. “I’m right beside you.”

Ellie tries to follow the steps, although they look a lot cooler and better in Dina’s boots than they look in Ellie’s chewed-up sneakers. After the song, Ellie takes two big steps away from the line, shaking her head. Dina follows her, laughing, grabbing her arms. “Don’t quit now! You were doing so well,” she says, her laugh betraying the lie.

“I don’t think line dancing’s for me,” Ellie pants. She can’t help but smile, though. Dina looks so pretty tonight. The pull is stronger than usual. She grips Dina’s arms, too, their forearms locked together.

Dina smiles at her, eyes twinkling. “Yeah, you’re a pretty terrible cowboy, Ellie,” she giggles, and Ellie feels a shiver. She loves the way Dina says her name.

Someone comes up beside them. “Hey, dork squad,” Jesse says, his hand on Dina’s shoulder, familiar.

Ellie draws back, although Dina’s fingers slide down her bare arms as they fall, leaving goosebumps. In slow motion, Dina turns and aims that smile at Jesse, and Ellie realizes the song changed again.

“Care to dance?” Jesse’s asking, and Dina nods, and she gives Ellie a way worse smile, a smaller one, an apology.

Ellie swallows hard. “Have fun,” she says, but they’re already walking away.

It’s time to leave.

\--

Even though she knows better, even though it always hurts in the end more than it helps in the moment, Ellie touches herself after she turns out the lights and crawls into bed alone.

This time, because she’s already so far gone, already so buried under these feelings, this yearning, she lets herself imagine Dina. Lets herself picture her face, her eyes, so close.

But, even in her imagination, she can’t elapse those last inches, the space between their mouths that keeps them from colliding. Even in her imagination, when she takes Dina’s face in her hands, Dina’s smile dims, and she frowns, turns away.

 _It’s not like that_ , she hears Dina say in her mind, her own words in Dina’s voice. _I’m sorry. I don’t like you like that._

Ellie sits up and rests her head in her hands.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song played in this chapter is "helplessly hoping," which is the song joel plays on the porch before their last conversation. this is a song ellie associates with cat in this story, but that joel associates with ellie. (the song is vague enough to encompass both romantic and non-romantic relationships--don't worry.)


	18. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rainy day in spring.

Cold, wet drizzle starts as they round up for patrol, a damp but necessary prelude to proper spring in a few weeks. Ellie pulls her hood up as Maria walks over to the group.

“Pretty inspiring day, huh?” Dina asks under her breath, near enough that their feet knock together between the horses.

“Everybody noticed the weather this morning?” Maria asks, scanning each patroller. “Raise your hand if you aren’t prepped for rain.”

When no one moves, Maria nods to herself. Unlike the rest of them, huddled under hooded rain jackets or ponchos, Maria stands bareheaded, the rain darkening her hair to a slate gray.

“Alright, good. If it picks up and you’re feeling wet or cold, find cover. Don’t be stupid. Be prepared to pack in if the storm is too strong to ride back.” She lifts one hand as a visor as the rain picks up, pointing out the pairs. “Greg and Bonnie, you’re on the ridge trail. Eugene and Jesse, take the creek trails. Dina and Ellie, the mall out past the gator rock.”

Ellie glances at Dina and they both smile. Maria whistles and the gate pulls open.

“How’d I get stuck with you?” Dina jokes on the way out, wearing a lopsided grin.

“You must’ve done something right for once,” Ellie jokes back mildly.

\--

The rain picks up slowly as they ride the trail, and they nudge the horses to speed up as well. Around the halfway point, they reach a stream swollen from the rain and dismount.

Dina’s poncho pops out at her shoulder and arm where she’s punching it, struggling to get it to lay the way she wants. “I fucking hate the fucking rain,” she complains.

“You’re telling me.” Ellie landed in an ankle-deep puddle, her sneakers at least two pounds heavier. The water is freezing on her skin, and she lifts her foot as she realizes her jeans no longer reach her shoes and a strip of ankle is bare.

Dina shakes her head. “Really, Ellie? Even today you didn’t wear boots?”

Ellie shrugs. “Not like it’s gonna matter in that,” she points out, nodding at the rushing stream.

Dina shakes her head more and grabs Japan’s reins to lead him across. Sure enough, the water soaks up past her knees.

When they reach the other side, Dina’s cussing up a storm under her breath.

“Damn, you’re grouchy today,” Ellie says, climbing back up into the saddle.

“I fucking hate the fucking rain!” Dina yells at the sky.

\--

By the time they reach the mall, the rain and wind have picked up, plastering their coats to their backs and forcing rain into the crevices of the sliding entrance doors.

Ellie hops down to drag the door open. Dina rides Japan through, crouching under the top edge, and Ellie calls Shimmer in behind them so she can shut the door again.

The mall feels almost silent in comparison, with the doors muting some of the noise. Dina slides to the floor, her boots slapping the puddle already collecting below them. Ellie peels her hood back.

As quietly as possible in their squelching shoes, they scout the entrance lobby and turn up nothing. They pull up the security gate to a beat-up café and lead the horses in.

Dina dumps her poncho and backpack on a table immediately.

“At least the spores finally cleared out,” Ellie mutters, remembering the day they came on group patrol in the summer. The day they found the tattoo gun.

“Yeah,” Dina says, focused on dumping water out of her galoshes. “Fuck.”

Ellie can’t help but smile. It’s endearing, how Dina glares daggers at everything that got wet, like the rain molecules are still there and she wants them to know they’ve done her wrong.

“I hate having wet fucking socks,” Dina mutters.

“Yeah, me, too.” Ellie hops up on the counter and pulls her shoes and socks off to wring them out.

Dina shakes her head darkly. “So fucking gross.”

“You should have just said you were sick,” Ellie says.

Dina glares at her. “I thought it was just gonna sprinkle, not do this monsoon bullshit.” She throws her hands out wide and hisses, “I’m a fucking desert flower, goddammit! I’m not cut out for this!”

\--

When they’ve dried out enough to take a step without alerting every infected in the building, they put their backpacks on and creep back out into the lobby.

“Where do you wanna start?” Ellie asks, more for conversation than anything else.

As she expects, Dina says, “Let’s work our way out from here so the horses don’t run into trouble.”

Ellie nods, keeping her eyes off Dina, off the gloss of her wet skin, off the smooth movements of her arms, her soft sweater and steady hands.

\--

On patrol, Dina’s all business. No linked arms. No lingering eye contact.

It’s cleaner. Easier.

\--

“Last one,” Dina announces, laying the runner on the floor and pulling her knife out of the throat.

Ellie wipes her switchblade on the shredded shirt of the clicker she downed and puts it back in her pocket. She takes a look around the room. “Don’t remember this place from last summer.”

Dina looks around, too. “You might’ve been with the other group when we did this spot.”

Ellie approaches the closest shelf, looking at the bottles, the colors under the grime. “What was this place?”

“Art store, looks like.”

Ellie must look a little too long, because Dina comes up beside her, next to the paints. “Lots of stuff left here,” Dina says, noncommittal.

Ellie looks down; to the side; back to the paints. She should move on, but her feet don’t move.

Dina hovers for a moment. Then, surprisingly, she says, “Maybe you should take some. You do draw all the time. Ever get tired of black and white?”

Ellie opens her mouth to say no, to say she doesn’t want or need paint or art or beauty or love at all, in her life, to survive. That she’s just an empty black hole, anyway, and black holes don’t need paint.

The words die before they even reach her tongue. She shuts her mouth.

“Let’s take some,” Dina says. She pulls her own backpack around and opens it, tucking paint jars inside. “You never know.”

Ellie swallows, hard. She doesn’t know what to say, so she just nods and opens her bag, too.

\--

On the way back through, Dina points at the clothing store where they found the tattoo gun. “Let’s stop in here. Maybe there’s some good stuff left behind.”

“What do you even need?” Ellie asks.

“I won’t know ‘til I find it,” Dina says easily, already poking around the aisles.

The space is wide and dark. The depot in Jackson must have filled up, because most of the shelves and racks are still half-full.

“You might wanna check out some new jeans yourself, stretch,” Dina calls out when she sees Ellie just standing there.

Ellie looks down at the strip of exposed ankle. It’s not a bad idea. “What are you trying to say?” she calls back, moseying toward the cubbies of jeans against the rear wall.

“Look for yourself,” Dina says from behind a rack. “Flood pants aren’t cool anymore.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “I feel like you’re just trying to deflect so I don’t call out how short you are.” Ellie starts riffling through the stacks of jeans, trying to remember what _boot cut_ means.

“I am not that short.” Dina appears beside her, hands on her hips.

Ellie turns and smirks at her. She puts her hand flat on her head, draws it away in a careful horizontal line, then pointedly pats Dina’s head with the two-inch gap.

“Yeah, see, not that short,” Dina says, grinning back, swatting Ellie’s hand away from her. “That was, like, barely an inch.”

“Hope you enjoyed keeping up with me while it lasted,” Ellie teases, turning back to the piles of identical pants, “because I think you maxed out already.”

“I’m confident in my verticality. I’ll just keep you around to get stuff off the shelves.”

“Uh huh.” Ellie puts another pile back and stalls, realizing she really doesn’t know what she’s looking for.

Dina pauses, expectantly. “Having trouble? There’s gotta be something your size. There’s, like, a billion pairs here.”

“Easy for you to say,” Ellie says with a scowl. She holds up one of the labels, showing two numbers and six adjectives, none of them _pants_. “What does all this shit even mean?”

Dina rolls her eyes. “Honestly, you are such a dummy sometimes.”

Then Ellie feels an icy bolt of panic race through her as Dina grabs the bottom of her hoodie and t-shirt, lifts them up, and peels back the waistband of her jeans to look at the label.

“Jesus, Dina, what the fuck—?” she sputters.

“Stay still, you big baby.” Dina aims her flashlight at the label, oblivious to or uninterested in Ellie trying to squirm away from her. Ellie bites hard on the inside of her cheek, trying to remember what underwear she even wore today, trying not to care, trying to think mundane, inane thoughts.

How come she never feels like a well of apathetic loneliness when it would actually be convenient?

Dina releases her and turns to the cubbies, all cool, all business. Ellie fixes her hoodie and tries to bring her heart rate under control.

“Right here.” Dina points to one of the piles, just above eye level. “This is the same kind.”

“You are so ridiculous,” Ellie mutters, pulling the whole pile out, squatting down, and setting the jeans on the floor so she can see them. It doesn’t hurt that it also hides her bright red face.

“You’re so dramatic. There, that’s what you have now,” Dina interrupts, pointing as Ellie flips pairs out of the way. “So just pick, like, the next one up, or whatever.”

“Thanks for that. What would I do without you,” Ellie says drily. “I understand how sizes work.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You were really struggling.”

“Fuck off.” Ellie pulls two pairs in the next size up and starts stuffing them in her bag over the paints and brushes.

“You gonna try them on first?”

Jesus fuck.

“No.”

She can feel Dina looking at her strangely, narrowing her eyes, suspicious. Double fuck.

“So, you’re gonna drag those all the way back to Jackson only for them to not fit and you to have to schlep back out here again for a different size?”

And, okay, that does sound really dumb, like maybe inescapably dumb.

“Ugh, fine.” She stands up, leaving her bag on the floor, the jeans in her hand. “Where’s the fucking…” She looks around for the dressing room.

“What’re you, scared?” She turns back and Dina’s eyebrows are up, dubious, ready to challenge her. “It’s literally you, me, and two horses alone in this whole fucking mall, stupid.”

Ellie stares at her for one full breath. Stupid or not, she has to draw a line at some point, or she’s going to end up looking a fool and losing a friend all in one stroke.

“Well, fucking turn around then,” she says, meeting Dina’s eyes.

Dina blinks and looks away. “Fine, prude,” she says, lifting her hands in surrender and turning around.

Ellie fumbles her shoes untied and off and switches into the new pants as fast as possible. She almost falls over sticking her foot through the second leg.

“You okay back there?” Dina asks, peering just slightly over her shoulder as Ellie zips the fly up.

“Never knew you were a downright peeping Tom,” Ellie mutters. “I’m done.”

“Always dramatic.”

Dina turns around and looks Ellie up and down. The scrutiny makes her blush again. Ellie looks down, standing with one foot crushing her damp shoe, the other on the dirty floor. She lifts one foot; the length looks right.

“See? It would’ve been totally fine.” She kicks at Dina’s leg and Dina dodges back.

“Better safe than sorry!” Dina smirks at her.

Ellie shakes her head and tears the tag out of the back of the waistband. She chucks the tag and the old pair into one of the cubbies on the bottom row.

“Can you put your shoes on, please?” Dina says, imitating someone poorly. Maybe Jesse. “We _are_ on _patrol_ , you know!”

Ellie laughs and kneels down to put her shoes back on and stuff the extra pair in her backpack. “Whatever. Let’s get back downstairs and get the fuck out of here.” She stands and puts her bag back on. “Or do you have more shopping to do?”

“Nah, I did all my shopping.” Dina pats the bottom of her backpack. “Let’s go.”

\--

They make a quick stop to update the logbook, then backtrack to the front door near the horses to check outside. Rain comes down in loud, heavy sheets, beating on the cracking concrete and soaking the overgrown grass.

“Wait it out?” Ellie asks, loud over the rain.

Dina nods and pushes the door shut again.

\--

They check in on the horses, then climb back up to the office with the logbook to set up camp. Ellie hangs the poncho and rain jacket to dry while Dina sets up the camp stove and digs out a can of beans from the dry supplies crate.

“Can you look in my bag for me?” Dina asks as opens the can with her knife, lining the tip up against the lip of the can and popping it down with a firm smack to the hilt.

Ellie pulls the bag over and sits next to her. She pulls the zipper open, a little tentative. She’s never looked in Dina’s bag before.

“There should be a pack of socks on top.” The can open and stove lit, Dina shifts from her knees to sit down and pull her damp galoshes off.

Sure enough, a big twelve-pack of socks sits on top of the paints Dina swiped earlier. Ellie pulls the pack out and sets it on the floor between them.

“Figured it’d be nice not to catch hypothermia,” Dina explains, breaking open the pack and tossing a pair in Ellie’s lap.

“Good thinking.” Ellie takes her shoes off while Dina swaps her socks for fresh, dry ones.

Dina gestures with her chin and says, “How old are those shoes, anyway? They look pretty sad, El.”

Ellie shrugs and turns the shoe in her hands to look at the worn sole. “Pretty fuckin’ old, I think. I had to go up a size last year and this was the only pair I found.” She tosses the shoe aside and tugs her wet socks off.

Dina shakes her head. “Growing up right before our eyes,” she says in a fake teary old lady voice. In her normal voice, she adds, “Joel must be shitting bricks, watching you turn into a grown-up.”

Ellie hesitates, pulling the second sock on. She clears her throat and slips the cuff over her heel carefully. “Yeah, well. You know Joel.”

Dina gives her a questioning look. “How do you mean?”

Ellie glances at her. “Um, just, if he was freaking out, it’s not like he’d say shit about it to me.”

Dina smirks. “That’s true. Like broody father, like broody daughter, huh?”

Ellie glares at the little flame of the camp stove. “He’s not my father.”

“Father figure,” Dina amends, unbothered.

Ellie’s not sure what to say to that. She scoots closer to the camp stove and stirs the beans with a spoon.

“Let me do that.” Dina takes the spoon from her, gently, and takes over stirring.

“I can stir beans,” Ellie mutters, getting up to go fiddle with her bag on the table. She unzips it and busies herself with repacking it to balance the weight.

Behind her, Dina says, “Anyway, all I’m saying is maybe we should look for some new shoes for you in that store, after we eat.”

Ellie slows and stops. She takes a breath and relaxes on the exhale.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

\--

“They shouldn’t keep the logbook here,” Dina complains as they pass the can back and forth. “There’s not a single window in this stupid office. It’s so un-strategic.”

Ellie glances around and realizes Dina’s right. “You can’t even hear the rain in here, really.”

Dina stretches her legs out and crosses her feet at the ankle, wiggling her toes in the plushy new socks. “We can check when we go shoe hunting.”

“Do you need a new pair, too?” Ellie asks, eyeing the galoshes, still basically soaked completely through.

“Ugh. Maybe just for tonight,” Dina admits. She sits up and pats her hands on her thighs. “Wonder if there’s any other hidden treasures in this place. Maybe we should explore.”

Ellie chews too hard and feels her teeth squeak against each other. The burn on her arm suddenly feels hot and obvious, the moth almost glowing in the light of the camping lantern. “Maybe,” she forces out, although she doesn’t want to. “Shouldn’t get too crazy, though. Could be a lot of infected hiding out in here still.”

Dina considers her. She accepts the can when Ellie passes it. “Yeah, bigger buildings are always more dangerous,” Dina agrees. “Too many hidden basement rooms and shit.”

“Right.” Ellie hunches forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

Dina sucks on the spoon thoughtfully. Ellie looks away. “We could at least check out the stores, though,” Dina says. “Not like we have anything else to do all night.”

Ellie scratches her ear and looks at the space between them, wider than it usually is in Jackson.

“Right.”

\--

It’s hard, in the pauses, the silences, not to ask about Jesse, about what’s going on with them. What it is that pulls them apart or pushes them back together. This time, they’ve set a new record for the longest break they’ve taken. Almost enough to make an idiot hopeful.

Stupid.

\--

“Dina, I really think you should be wearing shoes right now.”

“So you’ve said. Several times.” Dina pulls another shoebox out and tosses it at the end of the aisle.

Ellie tightens her crossed arms. “You’re gonna end up like that dude in Die Hard. Dodging all the bullets and still getting fucked from stepping on broken glass and shit.”

“We cleared the floor twice today,” Dina points out. “And I’m _hoping_ my badass patrol partner can handle one or two stragglers if they come to pick me off. If you let me get killed in a Shoe Carnival, I’m gonna haunt your ass so bad.”

Ellie snorts. “Whatever. Will you just pick some shoes already?”

“Working on it.” Dina yanks another box out of a stack of identical boxes and walks back to the pile she made at the end of the aisle. She kicks the boxes aside to make a path and takes a seat on a bench with slanted mirrors for supports.

Ellie leans against the shelves across from her, watching Dina open boxes and pull shoes out, trying them one at a time.

“Are you gonna just watch me, or are you gonna find a pair yourself?” Dina prods, raising an eyebrow at her. She looks pointedly at Ellie’s ratty shoes, slowly leeching water into the new socks.

“Fine,” Ellie huffs, walking back down the aisle, aiming her flashlight at the display shoes along the top shelf. She already knows none of the shoes in this aisle are the kind she wants.

When Ellie’s two aisles over, flicking her switchblade open and shut as she walks, she hears Dina call, “You know, you might have better luck if you would expand your wardrobe options to more than one single type of shoe.”

Ellie rolls her eyes and calls, “Shut up!”

She can imagine Dina smirking and laughing at her as she says, “I know your aesthetic is very important to you, but still—”

“You’re the one trying on literally a hundred pairs of shoes right now,” Ellie returns.

“Do you know what that word means?”

On the third aisle, Ellie spots what she’s looking for. “Fuck, yes,” she says, squatting to check the numbers on the boxes. She drops to her butt and yanks on the tongue of her right shoe to check the size.

“You still there?” Dina asks, her voice sharper, more alert.

“Yeah, sorry,” Ellie checks back in. “Think I found what I wanted.”

“Oh, good. More ridiculously non-utilitarian canvas shoes that get cold and wet if they even walk _past_ a puddle?”

“Those’re the ones.”

Ellie scans the stack once, twice, a third time, then swears loudly. Dina appears at the aisle intersection. “There you are,” she says, putting her foot out heel-down to show off the boots she found. “What do you think?”

Ellie tosses a box back on the stack and shakes her head. “They have my shoes, but not my fucking size?”

Dina walks over to her. “Really?” She hovers by Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie glares morosely at the shoes. “Must be your giant sasquatch feet,” Dina comments mildly.

“Fuck you,” Ellie sighs, standing up. “This is such bullshit.”

“Let’s check the back, like, storeroom, right?” Ellie looks at Dina and Dina shrugs. “We see those sometimes. Might as well check.”

Ellie bites her lip. The glow from the flashlights paints Dina in gentle shadows, her face and eyes softer than usual. She touches Ellie’s arm.

“Yeah, I guess,” Ellie says, then clears her throat. She aims her light at Dina’s feet. “I like those. Forgot to say.”

Dina grins. “Me, too.”

\--

It takes absolutely forever to find anything in the fucking storeroom. It’s just stack after stack of shoeboxes, all of them looking the same washed-out color in the flashlight beams. Dina leaves and comes back with one of the wrong size boxes, pointing out the text and code on the box sticker so they can look for it.

Ellie's eyes are starting to cross by the time Dina calls, “Back here, up at the top.”

When she comes over, Dina’s leaning against the rack, straining to catch the edge of the box with her fingertip. Hearing Ellie, Dina rocks back on her heels. “Up there,” she says, pointing. “Put those long legs and big feet to good use.”

“Can you quit?” Ellie lifts onto her toes and reaches, just barely able to scoot the stack to the edge of the rack and tip it so the boxes fall behind them onto the floor.

“Quit what?” Dina kneels down and starts turning the boxes so the labels face up.

“Giving me shit for getting taller,” Ellie mumbles. She grabs the only box with the right size marked. “Bingo.”

Dina climbs to her feet; she catches Ellie's eye as she stands.

“I’m only teasing,” Dina says evenly, peering at her. “I like you tall.”

Ellie searches her face, but as always, there’s nothing deeper there to find. No secret yearning. No miraculous lesbian awakening.

Ellie looks down and flips the lid off the box. “You just like not needing to get something to stand on.”

Dina shrugs. “Got me there.”

\--

In the cafeteria, sitting on a table under the huge atrium skylight, Ellie says, “Malls are so weird.”

Dina turns from watching the rain beat down on the glass. “Yeah?”

Ellie looks around at the scattered tables, the food stalls with dusty countertops and faded signs. “It’s weird, going in places that are like… so _before_ , you know?”

Dina hugs her knees loosely and looks around, too. “Like, so removed from things now.”

“Yeah.” Ellie leans back on her hands. “It’s just, like, a temple to worship _stuff_. And then I guess grab a bite to eat while you’re at it.”

“Pretty weird,” Dina agrees. “It’s like, trying to make stopping by the storehouse into a whole day’s outing.”

“People used to go on, like, dates at the mall,” Ellie says, thinking back to old journal entries and magazines she found on the road. “Hard to imagine why. This mall doesn’t even have an arcade or anything.”

Dina looks at her, and when Ellie turns, Dina’s smiling with her eyes narrowed, almost smug. “I bet you would go on a date with anyone to spend an hour in an arcade.”

The memory hurts a little. Was that night with Riley a date? Kind of. As close as they ever got.

Ellie must look a little down, because Dina quickly adds, “Maybe not like _anyone_ anyone.”

Ellie rubs her finger in the dust on the table, staring at the great emptiness of the room. “Maybe if the arcade had power,” she offers. “I found one once, but nothing worked. Kind of sucked.”

Dina turns away from her, but Ellie doesn’t look.

“If you could pick, like, any arcade game in the world, and it would work and you could play it,” Dina draws out slowly, “but you had to go on a date with Chad, would you do it?”

Ellie laughs immediately. “ _Fuck_ no,” she says. They never made a game good enough for that trade.

“Not even if you could pick two games?” Dina teases.

“No. It’s a hard no.”

Dina laughs. “Not a Chad fan?”

“He’s not exactly my type.” Ellie drags her fingers through the dust and sits up, leaning on her knees. The table tilts slightly, but holds.

“Ah,” Dina says, “so you do have a type, then.”

Ellie’s eyes widen, but she’s careful not to look at Dina. She just shrugs. She’s not sure why, but she feels like it’s a topic she should avoid.

If Dina was tempted to go down that road, she resists the temptation. “So, you’re a video game nerd, too? Did you have them in Boston?”

“I fucking wish.” Ellie laughs without meaning it. “I’m never gonna get to play one.”

“Yeah,” Dina allows. “Probably not.”

\--

If she’d died in that hospital, would Dina and Jesse be one of those carefree couples on a stupid date in the mall food court? Living happily ever after, never knowing she’d existed?

\--

After another check on the horses, they retreat to the logbook office. It was dim before, but it’s dark now, with no daylight left outside to bounce down the hallways. Ellie turns on the lantern and spies Dina pulling their sleeping bags over, drawing them up next to each other.

Ellie doesn’t say anything. Just props the chair up under the door handle and sets her backpack down by Dina’s drying boots.

Dina pulls each sleeping bag open, peering inside with her flashlight beam.

“Everything okay?” Ellie asks.

Dina looks up and gives her a small, embarrassed smile. “Habit,” she says. She stands up and walks back toward Ellie. “Checking for snakes.”

“Oh, you weren’t kidding about that?” Ellie asks, a little surprised. She exaggerates it to tease her: “There a lot of snakes in abandoned shopping malls?”

Dina gives her that frown-and-smirk combo, the smirk a little crooked. Ellie feels her pulse pick up and leans back against the desk on instinct, creating more space between them.

“You’d be surprised,” Dina says. Her eyes are lively in the dark.

Ellie looks away and nods at the bags. “So? All clear?”

Dina turns back toward them. “Yep. Ready to pack it in for the night?”

Ellie walks past her, grabs her backpack, and sets it at the head of the sleeping bag closest to the door. She opens the bag and sits down on it, stuffing her feet into the fabric, the vinyl rubbing noisily. Dina brings the lantern and comes up next to her, dropping her own bag, opening the sleeping bag, sitting down next to her.

The bags are almost overlapping. Dina’s just inches away, pulling her new boots off, sliding her feet in under the heavy down.

Ellie scoots down, folding the flap up over herself, lying on her back but angling away. The backpack is lumpy and hard under her head, the plastic paint bottles awkward and unyielding.

“To sweater, or not to sweater?” Dina muses, sitting up with her legs inside the sleeping bag. She plucks the bag, considering the weight of the down.

From the floor, Ellie looks at Dina’s back: her gray knit sweater slashed with shadows; her hair coming loose from its bun, half tumbling down in a ponytail, clinging to the sweater’s high collar; the curve of her shoulders, slender and strong.

Dina looks over her shoulder, almost suddenly, catching Ellie staring. Ellie blinks.

“What do you think?” Dina prods, holding Ellie’s gaze, confident and unshaken as ever.

Ellie shrugs and tugs the neck of her hoodie wordlessly.

Dina purses her lips, thinking. “Nah,” she says, taking the hem of her sweater and drawing it up over her head. Her undershirt catches, hitching up her sides, her skin soft in the light, her back dimpled at her spine. Under the sweater, her tank top leaves her neck and shoulders bare.

Ellie lets herself look, taking deep, even breaths. Her pulse hammers in her ears anyway.

Dina pulls her hair down, loops the tie around her wrist, and gathers her hair back up. Then, in one fluid motion, she turns the lantern off, lies down, and brings the sleeping bag up around her. As she contracts, cuddling into the down, she must turn to face Ellie, because Ellie feels Dina’s breath brush the back of her hand.

Ellie puts her arm behind her head, looking in Dina’s direction, unable to see in the pitch dark.

It’s been a long time, since they slept in the same room. Before Cat, definitely. They used to have sleepovers sometimes when they were kids. Then there was that dark age they never talk about, when Ellie was with Cat and Dina was nowhere to be found. And since then, Ellie has refused the suggestion every time. Knowing how she feels, knowing how Dina doesn’t feel, the prospect is too risky. Too painful.

As if to prove the point, Dina reaches out with her foot, pressing their sleeping bags together.

After a long pause, where Ellie mostly hopes Dina won’t get all cuddly and realize how fast Ellie’s heart is beating, Dina says, “Feels weird, right?”

Then again, maybe Dina just magically knows when Ellie feels like this.

“Huh?”

Dina shuffles in the bag. Her voice sounds farther, aimed away, when she says, “Camping on patrol, outside the walls. Feels almost like Jackson’s just a dream. Like it never really happened.”

“Oh.” Ellie considers it: the lumpy backpack and sleeping bag; the catch of her shoes against the fabric; the feeling of vigilance that catches and amplifies every sound. She remembers her knife and pulls it out of her pocket, setting it in easy reach beside her.

“Then again,” Dina says, “it still feels a lot safer here than it did on the road.”

Ellie bites her lips. “Yeah. It’s different… when you have somewhere to go home to.”

“Right. … It just feels too good to be true, sometimes, you know? Like… peace.”

Ellie swallows. “Yeah. Like, you spent so much time in one movie, and then you wake up in this random totally different one, and it’s like, what?” She wets her lips, staring into the darkness above her. “Like… how long ‘til I wake up in the first one again?”

“Yeah,” Dina says softly. “Like… exactly like that.”

\--

It doesn’t happen a lot, but for some reason, it happens tonight: Ellie dreams of the diner in Colorado, hiding behind tables and booths, throwing bottles at David, knowing she’s going to die. In this dream, when David catches her, his face is already the red, bloody mess Ellie made with the machete. He laughs without a mouth; clutches at her, unkillable.

Ellie wakes to a shout and grabs her knife, scrambling and stumbling out of her sleeping bag, eyes straining against the pitch dark.

The lantern comes on. Dina sweeps out of her sleeping bag into a crouch, her pistol at the ready.

They’re the only ones in the room. They stay frozen for a beat—then two. There’s no noise but their breathing. No threat.

Dina turns to her, both of them panting from adrenaline. “Are you okay?” she asks.

Ellie looks at her, blinking hard, trying to catch up.

“Um, yeah,” she says, her voice thick with sleep. “Just… heard something.”

“I think that was you,” Dina says, looking at her with concern.

Ellie stares at her. “Oh,” she says, her breaths shallow. “I… It was a bad dream.”

Dina nods. She puts her pistol back in the holster and straightens out Ellie’s sleeping bag—just like that, so simply. She climbs back into hers and pats the ground beside her. “C’mon. Go back to sleep.”

It takes a moment for her body to respond. Ellie presses the catch and folds her knife back in, taking tentative steps back toward Dina.

When she settles back in the sleeping bag, Dina squeezes her arm once, reassuringly. She turns the lantern out and lies back down.

Ellie stares into the darkness, the great empty void. It’s like a mirror, except this darkness is silent as it swallows her up, as it gulps her down whole, hungry and bottomless.


	19. R&R

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An injury and a surprise.

Despite the pain, Ellie tries her best to convince Maria to let her go home. As she expected, Maria’s having none of it.

“Astrid, go check in with Jesse,” Maria directs her, pulling the reins out of Ellie’s hands and over Shimmer’s head. “You”—she points at Ellie the second she shifts back in the saddle—“stay on the horse.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Ellie insists, gritting her teeth when Maria and Shimmer move and her ankle shifts slightly.

Maria shakes her head and sighs, leading Shimmer away from the stable. “You and Joel and Tommy are all the same,” she mutters.

Ellie’s ears burn. She wipes sweat from her forehead, squinting in the hot summer sun.

“My house is that way,” Ellie says as Maria turns them the wrong way.

“You are going to the medic,” Maria says firmly.

Ellie sighs in frustration. “It’s really not a big deal,” she repeats. “I just need to clean it and ice my ankle.”

“Somehow, I don’t think you’re being fully honest with me, so I’m taking you to someone who will be.”

\--

Part of why Ellie wanted to just go home is this exact reason: It’s Cat who greets them at the clinic and helps Ellie off the horse. Ellie fights to keep her breaths even and quiet when her foot grazes the ground and pain shoots up her leg.

Maria steps under Ellie’s right arm to help her limp inside, and Ellie thinks she catches a look pass between Maria and Cat. Maria dumps her on an open cot surrounded by worn cloth partitions.

“I’ll take it from here,” Cat says to Maria politely.

“Thanks.” Maria pats Cat’s shoulder and turns to fix Ellie with a glare. “You behave, now. If I hear otherwise, you’ll be twenty before you’re back on patrol.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ellie mutters. She slides her backpack off and dumps it on the floor.

Maria leaves and then it’s just them. Cat takes a deep breath and walks over to stand in front of her.

“Heard you were working here now,” Ellie says uneasily. Cat wears all her hair up in a long ponytail now; her arms are almost fully covered in tattoos, with only a few spaces of bare skin left. The corner of another pokes out of the collar of Cat’s t-shirt.

Her eyes are the same: dark and deep and calm. They don’t invite Ellie in the way they used to, though. That door is closed.

“Not really my idea,” Cat says, kneeling down to untie Ellie’s shoes. “But apparently a basic knowledge of antiseptic puts you on the pre-med track these days.”

“I can do that,” Ellie says about the shoes, although it turns into a hiss as Cat peels the canvas and sock off her swelling ankle.

Cat shakes her head, pulling the other shoe off. “Can you just sit there and let somebody help you for once?” she says. It sounds a little sharp, but maybe that’s Ellie’s guilt talking.

“Sorry,” she mutters.

Cat gingerly rotates her foot and Ellie struggles not to make noise. Cat sighs and looks up at the cuts poking out of the holes in Ellie’s jeans. She stands up and points at Ellie’s waist. “Off. What the hell happened to you, anyway?”

Ellie feels her face getting red, but she starts undoing her jeans without protest. “Floor caved in and my foot got caught.”

Cat sighs again.

Ellie can’t figure out how to get the jeans off with any dignity without standing up, so she just squirms back and forth on the cot to work them off her hips and down to her knees, sucking air through her teeth when the fabric rubs her skinned thighs and knees.

“Jesus, Ellie,” Cat murmurs, pulling a little rolling table over to them.

Ellie tries to smile. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” she jokes, trying to take the edge off of being half naked in front of her ex.

Cat ignores her and works the jeans the rest of the way off, careful of the gash and bruise on her shin and gentle on her puffed-up ankle.

With the wounds revealed, Cat stands up and considers them, absently folding the jeans and setting them aside on the cot. It feels like a personal touch, but knowing Cat, she’d probably do it for anyone.

“The ankle’s the biggest problem,” Cat says. “And even that’s just a waiting game.” She takes a folded cloth and douses it with alcohol.

“Why _are_ you working here, anyway?” Ellie asks, eyeing the cloth. That’s going to hurt. “You always hated patrol.”

Cat shakes her head and presses the cloth flat against the raw skin on Ellie’s thigh. “Fuuucking fuck,” Ellie says under her breath.

“I don’t hate patrol. I know it has to be done,” Cat corrects her. Simply, matter-of-factly, she says, “I didn’t like you doing it because I worried about you.”

Ellie chomps on the inside of her cheek as Cat cleans her other thigh.

“You were always so eager about it,” Cat continues. “I had a feeling you were being reckless out there. Looks like I wasn’t wrong.”

“I wasn’t— _reckless_ —” Ellie struggles, her legs twitching and stinging.

“Scoot back.” Cat points and Ellie drags herself farther back on the cot, trying not to move her ankle too much.

Ellie swallows hard. “It was just an old building,” she explains. “The floor just gave.”

Cat shakes her head and spares Ellie a disinterested glance. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Hold this.” She hands Ellie a faded green stress ball.

Ellie starts to ask why, then Cat carefully pours three drops of alcohol directly into the two deeper cuts. “ _Fucking_ motherfucking _fuck_ ,” Ellie gasps, her nails digging into the stress ball.

“Won’t need stitches,” Cat says to herself, touching the edge of each cut gently. She pinches the edges together and seals them with a band-aid.

Even though it’s plainly untrue, Ellie says, “I feel like you’re enjoying this way too much.”

Cat’s eyes meet hers, and whatever they find, Cat seems to soften. For the first time since Ellie got there, Cat smiles a little. She shakes her head, more at herself this time, and picks up the cleaning cloth again. “What can I say,” she says, “you’re cute when you’re helpless.”

Ellie feels that familiar jolt, but it’s more of pain than excitement, now. Like bumping into an old, mostly-forgotten wound.

“Don’t even,” Ellie warns. She wants to ask if Cat misses her, if Cat still thinks about her. Ellie doesn’t think of Cat that often anymore, but she still does, sometimes. Instead, Ellie asks, “How’s your mom?” right as Cat presses the cloth to her shin.

“She’s good,” Cat answers evenly. She blots blood from Ellie’s thigh, where the wound still oozes slowly. Cat laughs a little to herself. “She still asks about you sometimes.”

Ellie bites her lips into her mouth. It had been nice, hadn’t it, to be part of a family for a little while?

“I didn’t deserve you,” Ellie says before she even processes the thought. She clenches her jaw, but she meets Cat’s eyes when she looks up.

It’s not like she has anything to lose, here.

Cat stands up straighter and leans on the bed, her face thoughtful.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” she says. She says it the way she used to say things to Ellie: softly, gently. Ellie feels a deep ache, a homesickness for that feeling of being loved, being cared for. That feeling she might never have again.

Ellie forces herself to look down, to focus on her angry torn skin and purple ankle and the indignity of sitting on a cot in her underwear in front of Cat after all this time.

Cat’s looking for something in her cart and not finding it. She touches Ellie’s uninjured foot. “I gotta go grab something. Stay here.”

“Yeah, if you insist, I guess I can push the 5K until later,” Ellie calls after Cat as she disappears through the curtains.

Ellie lets out a deep breath, running her hands down the outside of her legs. The stinging is dying down, and her ankle doesn’t hurt that badly when it’s stationary. It sure looks bad, though: purple and round.

Just moments later, the curtain pops open again. Ellie looks up, ready to say _that was fast_ or something, but it’s Dina standing there, not Cat.

“Uh,” Ellie says, feeling her face turn bright red. “D—”

“Fuck, Ellie,” Dina says. She looks worried and freaked out, but at least she’s more focused on the damage than the lack of pants.

For Ellie, the lack of pants is really the main event, right now. It wasn’t bad enough to do this with Cat? At least Cat’s not hitting any new bases or anything.

“Are you okay?” Dina’s asking, reaching for her ankle and then the cuts and then back, hovering without touching. “What the fuck happened? Maria just said you were in medical.”

“Fucking floor busted out from under me,” Ellie says, trying to keep her voice normal. Is this how her voice normally sounds? She leans forward awkwardly.

“That’s—”

“Here we go,” says Cat as she comes back in, holding a roll of wide beige elastic. Dina looks over, and then she and Cat just look at each other, and Ellie really super _extra_ wishes Joel had let her just die in that fucking hospital so she could’ve avoided sitting here in her underwear for this awkward fucking shit.

Dina recovers first. “What’s the prognosis, doc?” she says, utterly normal.

Cat looks at her and then at Ellie.

Ellie gestures weakly at Cat. “Diagnosis: I’m a fuckup,” she jokes.

Dina shoots her a grin. “Well, we knew that already.”

Cat looks between them and steps toward the cot. Dina takes the hint and moves around to the side so Cat can start wrapping Ellie’s ankle. Ellie winces as Cat winds it tight.

Cat looks just at Ellie and says, “This’ll help with the swelling. Keep it on for at least 24 hours. Ideally 36.”

“Right,” Ellie says, watching her ankle disappear under the bandage.

“Otherwise it’s the standard rest-ice-elevate. Do you have ice packs at home?”

Ellie looks at Cat, because Cat knows she does, but she just nods.

Cat nods back. “Okay. I know you’re just gonna lie to me if I ask you how the pain is, so I’ll just tell you that if you’re feeling, like, shooting pain when you touch the ground, you absolutely should not walk on it.”

She pins the bandage in place and rests her hands on it lightly, intimately. She looks Ellie in the eye, meaningfully. “Don’t be an idiot. If you push too hard too fast, you could make it a lot worse and be off-duty a lot longer.”

Ellie bites her tongue and nods.

Cat looks at Dina. “You gonna help her get home?”

Dina’s looking at Cat’s hands. Ellie barely catches it, because Dina looks up an instant later. Dina nods, then glances at Ellie and smiles a little. “Might need some pants, though.”

“Wow, this is just my favorite day ever,” Ellie mutters under her breath.

\--

A long, painful walk later, Ellie drops heavily onto the couch from under Dina’s arm.

“You’re such a baby,” Dina says for the hundredth time, going back to close the door. “We would’ve gotten here way faster if you let me carry you.”

“Just leave me the one shred of dignity I have, please,” Ellie grumps.

Dina drops her backpack and Ellie’s onto the floor against the couch arm. “Way too late for that,” she says with a smirk. She turns toward Ellie’s closet and says, “Do you want to change out of the elephant pants?”

Ellie shoves the excess fabric out of the way to get her shoes off again. “Kind of.”

Dina pulls the top two dresser drawers open.

“Um—bottom drawer,” Ellie says, too late.

Dina snorts, closes the open drawers, and opens the bottom one. “Scared I’m gonna find out you have bras in there?”

“I think you saw enough of my underwear for one day, thanks,” Ellie says.

“Apparently not quite enough.” Dina stands up, holding a pair of sleep shorts. She comes back over and points at the too-big loaner sweats Ellie got from the clinic.

Ellie shakes her head, shifts her hips, and carefully pulls the borrowed sweatpants off and onto the floor. “Yeah, but this is the grand finale,” she mutters.

Dina hands her the shorts and she threads her feet through the legs, then carefully levers up on her good foot. Dina stands close enough for her to lean on, and she generously says nothing when Ellie loses balance and has to grab her shoulder. Ellie collapses back down, sinking into the cushions.

“Fuck this fucking ankle,” she says.

“Would you feel better if I make us even?” Dina asks.

Even?

For one insane, delirious second, Ellie wonders if Dina’s going to strip.

But no—Dina crosses to the kitchen, opening the cabinets and looking through the containers. “Don’t think you’re really in any position to slave over the stove,” she continues.

Ellie burns in several ways: embarrassed at her thoughts; embarrassed at the contrast of her thoughts and what Dina meant; embarrassed Dina’s seen her in her skivvies twice in one day already; embarrassed in general that her crush on Dina remains deep, fervent, and unyielding; and mercilessly, undeniably attracted to Dina anyway, drawn to her, even when she’s just taking a jar out of a cupboard or an onion off the counter.

“So,” Dina says, a little too casually, “I didn’t know Cat worked at the clinic now.”

The forbidden topic, broached.

“Yeah,” Ellie says, not sure what else to say.

Dina finds the chef knife and starts slicing something on the cutting board.

“How was that?” Dina asks without looking.

Ellie pinches the loose fabric of the shorts. “Better than Dr. Glieson, I guess,” she admits.

Dina snorts. “Let me guess, Glieson’s not your type either, huh? Is your type just Cat?”

Ellie freezes; looking over, she sees Dina frozen, too. The question feels dangerous. Too close to the bone. Too far below the surface where they’ve been treading water for months.

“If it is, I’m pretty fucked,” Ellie confesses.

Slowly, Dina presses the knife the rest of the way through the onion. “How so?”

Ellie stares at Dina’s back, at the muscles shifting under her layered tank tops. The hair at the back of her neck is damp and stuck to her skin.

What does Dina want to hear? That Cat doesn’t want Ellie anymore? That Cat’s the only person in this stupid town who could even want Ellie, that way? That Ellie’s cursed to be alone?

Ellie wants to misinterpret on purpose, to steer back to safe waters, but she’s not sure how. She gropes for an answer. “I guess fucked is the wrong word,” she finally jokes. It comes out tellingly bitter.

Dina looks over her shoulder. She’s not smiling. Ellie’s not sure what this look means. The longer it goes, the more it starts to look just… sad.

Finally, mercifully, Dina turns back around and goes back to slicing the onion. The knife makes steady, even passes, Dina’s hand confident, firm.

\--

When the silence has stretched really, really thin, Ellie moves to put a pillow on the coffee table and stick her foot up on it. Dina notices and says, “Oh, fuck,” and goes to the mini fridge to dig out an ice pack.

“Sorry, forgot,” she says, walking down the aisle between the couch and the coffee table to balance the ice pack on Ellie’s ankle.

Ellie pushes herself back a little in her seat. “Thanks,” she says awkwardly.

Dina hesitates, her gaze snagging on Ellie’s torn up leg, then snaking up to her face. “Are you really still this messed up about Cat?” she asks quietly.

Ellie frowns in confusion and starts to point at her leg. “This wasn’t…”

“No, I mean…” Dina puts her hands in her back pockets and shrugs. “Some days you seem fine, but sometimes you seem, like, just _really_ depressed.”

Ellie tries to withdraw, but her mobility is too limited. She twists her fingers together. “I don’t know,” she says, feeling raw, defensive. “There’s, like, a lot to be depressed about, dude.”

Dina’s knee flexes, just slightly. “I mean, I’m not an idiot,” she says. “It started last fall.”

“It’s not about Cat,” Ellie snaps. She didn’t mean to snap. She dips her head and swallows. “That’s not… I’m fine, Dina.”

Dina crosses her arms. Ellie chances a look up; Dina’s frowning at her, maybe frustrated, maybe sad. Whatever she’s feeling, she doesn’t push. She just says, “Okay.”

As she retreats, she pivots backward to say, “You know you can tell me, okay? I’m your best friend.”

Then she turns back to making dinner, to making the house smell warm and loving and amazing, and Ellie buries the feelings in the cold black void where nothing lives.

\--

Dina brings two bowls over. She puts one in Ellie’s lap and sets up on the other side of the couch, leaning against the arm and propping her legs up on the cushions.

“Thanks for cooking,” Ellie offers.

Dina stretches her foot out to press against Ellie’s hip. She looks sincere as she says, “Of course.”

Ellie looks down at her bowl and tries to think of the right thing to say. “Dina—”

Then someone knocks on the door. Ellie looks up in blank confusion. Who would even visit her except Dina, anymore?

“Come in,” Dina calls.

The door opens and Maria leans halfway in. “Oh, good, you made it home,” she says, looking at Ellie. She steps fully inside and shuts the door. “Medical says you need three weeks off, at least.”

“Fuck no,” Ellie says automatically. Three whole weeks? She can barely fill her days off, as it is.

“So I’m giving you four.”

“I don’t _want_ four.”

Maria tilts her head, glares, and crosses her arms. Maybe she’s the one who’s just like Tommy and Joel. “I know you don’t, but if I give you three and you aren’t better, you’ll come back anyway, and that’s no good to me.”

Ellie groans loudly. “I’m gonna go out of my fucking mind, Maria,” she whines. She can’t help it.

“I’m also going to arrange some help for you until you can get around on your own,” Maria continues, somehow making things worse and worse.

Ellie shakes her head, hard. “Fuck no. If I’m on house arrest anyway, all I have to do is move like ten feet at a time from there to there to there,” she says, pointing at the bed and the kitchen and the bathroom.

“I can help out,” Dina offers.

“She can’t take two of us off the roster,” Ellie says.

Maria gives Ellie that _don’t be stupid_ look. “Dina, if you want to help her out the first few weeks, that would be fine. I’ll put you on the shorter trails so you can get back earlier.”

“It is seriously not that big a deal,” Ellie groans, tilting her head over the back of the couch. “Please stop making it a big deal.”

“Thanks, Maria,” Dina says, like Ellie isn’t even there.

“Settled. Ellie?” Ellie drops her chin dramatically and looks at Maria. Maria raises an eyebrow. “Are you gonna tell Joel, or am I?”

Ellie stares at her, then lifts her index finger and points firmly at Maria.

Maria makes that tight sigh she makes when most people would roll their eyes. “Alright. Rest up.”

As soon as the door closes, Ellie tilts her head back again and makes the most melodramatic sigh she can muster. “This is the absolute worst fucking day.”

\--

“You can just set them in the sink,” Ellie says, but Dina runs the tap and starts scrubbing the dishes anyway. Ellie chews her lip, still guilty for snapping at her earlier, and guilty besides for taking up Dina’s whole afternoon pampering her over a dumb twisted ankle.

Dina doesn’t seem bothered or mad or annoyed at her at all. Dina just says, “What do you wanna do now, O helpless one? Read comics and mope? Draw and mope?”

“Very funny.” Ellie takes the ice off her ankle and sets it on the table.

Dina sets the last dish on the drying rack and turns with a devilish grin. “Play guitar for me and mope?”

Ellie eyes her, wary. “You don’t have to stay,” she says, and somehow it comes out small and pitiful, “if you wanna, like…”

She doesn’t want to say Jesse’s name and summon him into the room, so she just trails off.

Dina looks at her for a moment as she dries her hands, then crosses the room to Ellie’s guitar, standing in the far corner by the window. “This guitar thing really works for you,” Ellie says in awkward disbelief as Dina places it carefully in her hands.

“It would, if you’d ever fucking play for me,” Dina says. She says it too lightly to mean it.

Ellie eases her foot off the pillow and sits forward, gingerly pulling the leg of her shorts over her skinned thigh to cushion the guitar. It doesn’t hurt too bad, since she goes slow, testing the weight.

“What do you even want me to play?” Ellie asks, looking down, taking her time getting situated.

Dina sits neatly on the coffee table, her legs to the side, her body tilted toward Ellie. “I don’t know. Whatever you’ve been playing.”

So, something nice and depressing, then. Ellie snorts quietly.

“You asked for it,” she says, pressing her fingers to the frets for the opening chord of the easy song she’s been workshopping off her old cassette tape, picking out the opening notes as the magic starts to weave the air around her.

\--

“ _But I can’t walk on the path of the right, because I’m wrong_ ,” she finishes out. She hears Dina inhale, a little sharp, and chances a look over at her.

Dina’s looking at her so strangely. Her brow knits together; her eyes are wide, searching; her lips parted. She feels far away. Ellie’s fingers twitch above the strings; her elbow draws the guitar against her body, like a shield.

“Wow, Ellie,” Dina says thickly, squinting at her a little, “no wonder you’re so fucking depressed.” She scoffs, like she’s trying to laugh and failing.

Ellie clutches the guitar neck. She’s not sure what to say. What did Dina expect, really?

Dina’s eyes sweep over her face. Ellie looks down. “Maybe it’s time to find you some new music,” Dina says.

Ellie smirks and raises an eyebrow at her. “Don’t know what you expected,” she says. “You knew I was the brooding musician type.”

Dina scoff-laughs again, shaking her head.

A pause.

Dina bites her lip. Her eyes scan Ellie’s face, over and over, mining for something. “Are you ever gonna tell me,” she asks, “what happened last year?”

It’s clear, even without saying it. _What made you like this?_

Ellie looks at her arm, at the black fern embracing it, the edge of the moth’s wing. The burn scar presses against the wood of the guitar. New life.

What a joke.

Part of her wants to. Part of her wants to just tell Dina. To tell _somebody_. But what would she even say? I thought I was gonna save humanity, and all I got was a fucked-up bite scar? I’m pissed because Joel saved my life and therefore made it totally fucking worthless?

She must debate too long, because Dina shakes her head and stands up. Ellie keeps her eyes down.

“You should probably tell somebody, sometime,” Dina counsels quietly.

Ellie drums her fingers on the curve of the guitar. She tries to say something—tries to reach into that black hole and pull something, anything, out of it—but nothing comes. She can feel Dina looking at her. Maybe Dina has that same look of disappointment Cat had, last year in the red gloom of her bedroom.

Probably not. Cat was in love with her, too in love to see her faults clearly, to see that she wanted something Ellie didn’t have. Dina’s not that blind.

“Ellie.”

Ellie forces herself to look at Dina, to meet her eyes. Even from here, Dina’s eyes have that soulful depth, that gravity that draws Ellie in, that pins her in place.

Dina’s face is soft. Gentle. Understanding.

“I’m… gonna give you some space,” she offers, gently. “But I’ll be by after work tomorrow. Okay?”

Ellie swallows; blinks; nods.

“Do you need anything?” Dina’s eyes drop to Ellie’s beat-up knees and shins, poking out under the guitar. Her tone turns teasing as she nods toward the bathroom: “Want help with a pit stop before I go?”

Ellie snorts. “Honestly, there’s nothing I want less,” she says hoarsely.

Dina smiles at that, maybe relieved that Ellie isn’t totally catatonic and broken. “Yeah, well, you stay here and nurse that injured pride. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then, Dina takes a step toward Ellie, leaning toward her a little—then stops in place, like she thought better of it. Dina shakes her head and goes to the door.

“Dina.”

Dina looks over, one hand on the doorknob.

Ellie bites her lip. “Thank you.”

Dina holds her gaze for a long moment, then nods. Smiles.

“Of course.”

\--

It feels pointless, to talk about it. It’s not like it’d close up the yawning void, sew up that huge hole inside her. It’s not like it would undo all the pain and shit and blood it took to get her to Salt Lake. It's not like it would bring back the one scientist who could have brought some actual new fucking life out of the situation. It’s not like it would do anything, really—anything but invite that specious, mysterious danger Joel always talked about, the danger of telling more people.

Not that it stopped him from telling _his_ people. He told Tommy and Maria without even warning her about it.

Fucking asshole.

\--

It hurts, still. After a life spent learning not to trust people, Joel made her trust him.

And then he spat on it.

And doomed humanity besides.

\--

And then fucking lied about it for two fucking years.

He would have lied forever. He didn’t even care.

\--

By late afternoon, Ellie starts to wonder if she misremembered Dina saying she’d come by. Or maybe Dina just realized she had better things to do than watch Ellie mope. Like hang out with her actual fucking boyfriend. Instead of her hobbled, desperate, pitiful—

The self-hate spiral gets cut off by a knock.

“Come in!” Ellie calls, closing her book.

The door opens and it’s Dina who steps inside. Her face is happy and bright; her skin glows with sun and sweat.

“How’s it going?” she asks, kicking her shoes off. She keeps her backpack on and walks over to Ellie where she sits on the bed with her foot elevated.

“You know. Sucks.” Ellie watches Dina set her bag carefully on the bed. It looks bulkier than usual. “What’s up with you?”

Dina pauses with her hand on the zipper pull. She looks at Ellie, barely containing an excited smile. “So, I was saving this for your birthday,” she begins.

Ellie pushes herself more upright against the pillows. “What is it?”

“I’m trying to tell you, stupid,” Dina says with a laugh. She opens the bag and pulls out a big black square, pushing the bag off the edge when it catches.

She places it flat in front of Ellie. It’s shaped like a big book, curved on the top. Ellie leans forward to read the writing.

“Play… a PlayStation?” Ellie crawls closer, laying her hands on the warm plastic. “Are you fucking kidding me? Dina!”

Dina’s pulling more out of her bag—cords, controllers, plastic game cases. Ellie stares, beyond shocked, beyond excited, babbling, “You have to be fucking kidding me. Where the fuck did you find this? Does it work?”

“So you like it?” Dina asks, grinning that smug stupid beautiful fucking grin, and Ellie looks up at her, their faces close, and she barely stops herself from kissing Dina right then.

She just looks for a moment, stalled, her breath catching. Summer freckles cover Dina’s nose and cheeks; her eyes are shining with bone-deep, beautiful joy. Ellie’s heart hurts, like a balloon filled too full.

“I fucking love it,” Ellie manages.

Dina looks at her a beat longer, then tosses her backpack on the floor and gathers up the cords. “I figured you’d need it to get through four weeks off duty,” she says, all cool, all casual. She brings the console over to Ellie’s TV and tilts the TV to access the back.

Ellie shakes her head, still stunned. “Where the fuck did you find one of these? Let alone one that works.”

“I have many skills,” Dina says from behind the TV.

“ _And_ games?” Ellie looks at the bed, spreading the cases out. “And controllers?”

Dina pops out to grin at her. “Many, many skills,” she repeats.

Ellie shakes her head. “I fucking—” She almost says _love you_ , by accident. She swallows. “You wanna play?”

Dina turns the console and the TV on, testing the connection and setup. “We’ll see.”

\--

It takes a little getting used to. The camera controls are hard to use, at first. Ellie and Dina take turns ribbing each other for falling off cliffs or getting killed by enemies standing just off screen.

Dina takes a break to cook some dinner, then they play again afterward, for hours. After a while, Dina stops taking her turn with the controller. She curls up against Ellie’s shoulder, not moving even when Ellie’s arm jostles her.

As the sunlight starts to fade, Ellie clears her throat. “Seriously, Dina… thank you for this.”

Dina puts her hand on Ellie’s arm, covering the wide, feathered leaves of the fern. Her palm is warm and soft.

“No problem.”


	20. The Well of Loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn, patrol, and a bonfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last quarter of this chapter is rated M.

Ellie never used to care much about the seasons changing, but this year, the fading of summer feels ominous—bleak. It’s almost been a year since Salt Lake City. Since Joel. Since Cat. More tallies in the loss column.

Maybe that’s why Ellie can’t do it, can’t break this holding pattern with Dina. All she really has in Jackson anymore is Dina. If she fucks things up there, there’ll really be nothing left. Nothing but the emptiness, the hungry, lonely void, with nothing to hold it back.

It’s scary to think what that would be like.

\--

Jesse kicks a piece of rotting fungal crest off his boot and steps over the dead clicker. “I think I figured it out,” he says as Ellie hops behind the counter and starts opening drawers and cabinets.

“Figured what out?” She sets a quart of alcohol on the floor and pulls out two cloth strips to tie together.

“You,” he says, moving around the room. Ellie frowns, craning her neck to look for him. His voice comes from the back, behind the shelves: “Your whole deal.”

Ellie turns back to the task at hand, pouring the alcohol into a bottle and stuffing the cloth down the neck. “Really,” she says, skeptical.

“Well,” Jesse says, thinking aloud, “we left you to your own devices for, what, like a year now? And honestly it hasn’t seemed to do a whole lot.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Do tell, Dr. Jesse. Only you can succeed where all others have failed.”

He appears, leaning on the countertop as Ellie stuffs the Molotov in her bag. Ellie stands up and turns to him expectantly.

Jesse quirks an eyebrow. “You need to get laid.”

Ellie stares at him.

Jesse lifts his hands in a half shrug, like he’s just the messenger of this obvious and helpful objective fact.

Ellie scoffs and walks away from him to look for a route out. “You’re a regular fucking comedian, aren’t you,” she says sarcastically.

“I might be funny, but I’m actually not totally kidding,” he says.

“Even better,” Ellie sighs, drawing and reloading her pistol while she checks a door handle with her elbow. Locked.

“I’m just saying, maybe you just need to, like”—she doesn’t look, but he clearly pauses to make some probably obscene gesture—“work it out of your system.”

“Please never comment on my _system_ ever again.” Ellie tucks her pistol away and bends her knees to lift a filing cabinet away from a door.

Jesse comes up beside her as the cabinet settles on its base. They both draw pistols as Ellie quietly turns the handle and swings the door open.

A dark room with no outlet. Ellie trades her pistol for her knife and turns her flashlight on. Looks like an office, covered in thick dust. All clear. Ellie puts the knife away.

“Even if you were right,” she offers charitably, “it’s a little easier said than done, in my situation, dude.”

“Yeah, I know, save me the sob story.” Jesse leans against the doorframe while Ellie checks desk drawers. “It’s not like you have _no_ options, though.”

What the fuck? Is he talking about Dina?

Ellie stops where she is, crouched with a hand on the drawer handle. She looks up at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Jesse looks at her, then puts his hands out like it’s obvious. “Cat, man.”

Ellie couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d suggested Seth.

“Cat?” she says, too stunned to say anything else.

“Yeah. It’s been a year, Ellie. You ever think about patching that up? Clearly she dug you at one point.”

Ellie stares; blinks; tries to process that information.

“I don’t, uh, think Cat has any interest in me… patching anything up,” she says with difficulty. She pulls the drawer open. Another empty one.

“I mean, it’s not like you actually tried, though, right?”

Ellie closes the drawer slowly, deliberately. “No,” she concedes.

She can’t exactly tell him that she’s not interested in Cat anymore because she’s totally out of her goddamn mind over his fucking girlfriend.

“There you go,” he says, shrugging. “You’re the one who was all, ‘All the girls in Jackson are straight, Jesse, woe is me.’ We know at least one who’s not.”

Ellie shakes her head. “I don’t know, man.”

“Just think about it,” he says. When she stands up, he smiles at her. “Tired of putting up with your grouchy attitude.”

“Whatever,” she says, pushing past him out of the room. “I was born with a bad attitude. Not like that’s going anywhere.”

“I dunno,” he drawls thoughtfully, “I distinctly remember you being a lot nicer to be around when you were getting some.”

“Okay, your conversation privileges are revoked, starting now.”

Jesse follows her, grinning. “Ah-ah-ah, we’re on patrol, so I’m actually still your boss right now.”

“My very quiet boss, hopefully.”

“Hope all you want.”

\--

A while later, while Jesse writes up their day in the logbook, Ellie scratches her arm over the tattoo and asks, “None of that was coming from Cat, right?”

“Huh?” Jesse drops the pen and looks up.

“That…” She looks aside. “That stuff you said earlier. That wasn’t coming from Cat, was it?”

Jesse softens. He probably thinks she’s hoping it did come from Cat.

“Nah,” he says, waving his hand. “That was just me, full of hot air. I was just thinking about it, is all.”

Ellie scowls in disgust. “Uh, that’s kinda weird. We’re friends.”

Jesse puts his hands up and backpedals hard. “Not thinking about _it_! Jesus, Ellie.”

“You said it!”

“I meant, like, thinking about your situation,” he says in a rush, “ _because_ we’re friends. My friends' problems are my problems.” He seems sincere.

“Okay,” she says, guarded.

Jesse rubs his neck awkwardly. “I mean, I just, like, feel for you, Ellie. That’s… it’s gotta feel lonely.”

Ellie leans against the wall and crosses her arms. The words seem to slip out on their own: “Yeah… it does.”

“I have faith, though,” Jesse says—and it’s clear he does. His expression is calm, confident. “It’ll work out for you eventually.”

Ellie eyes him. That confidence is tempting; easy to follow. “What will?”

Jesse smiles and gestures grandly. “Love, man. Life.” He shakes his head. “It’ll all work out.”

\--

Watching Dina and Jesse peel off from the group arm in arm, Ellie decides she doesn’t want to go home to her empty apartment today.

She stops by just to set her backpack down inside the door, then heads to the outer edge of the streets, next to the high wall. There’s a chill in the air, and a breeze sweeps leaves along the paths and under her feet. She pulls her sleeves down and slides her hands in her pockets, watching people pass, looking at the trees. It’s the same route she takes on runs when she can’t sleep, but it looks novel in the daylight, colorful and cheerful.

She takes an early turn to avoid Cat’s house, feeling strangely like Jesse’s comments today might have disturbed the tenuous balance, might have stirred some dangerous magnetism long buried.

She can only handle so many self-destructive impulses at once.

As if on cue, she sees a high knot of thick dark hair passing ahead of her. For a second, her heart lifts, and her mouth opens to call Dina’s name—but it isn’t Dina. It’s a stranger, a middle-aged woman carrying a baby in her arms, stepping into the recycling center.

Ellie bites her lip. Even surrounded by strangers, she can’t keep Dina off her mind for long.

\--

When she spirals back onto the town center, she finds herself walking to the Tipsy Bison. She hasn’t been in a while, mostly because Dina doesn’t drag her there and she really doesn’t go anywhere unless it’s in Dina’s wake. She’s walked so long it’s dinnertime already; the diner’s bustling and crowded.

Maria waves at her from a booth with Tommy, but Ellie nods and immediately steers away, finding a spot at the far end of the bar. She doesn’t recognize anyone sitting near her. She pushes her sleeves up, bunched under the frayed short sleeves of her overshirt, and leans her elbows on the bar.

“Thirsty?” asks Josiah, ever predictable, walking over with a glass and rag in hand.

Ellie weighs the question for only a moment. “Yeah, can I get a beer?” she asks, speaking up a little in the noisy room. “And something to eat?”

He nods and turns away, checking in on other patrons as he works his way back to the kitchen.

Ellie scratches her ear, then her neck, looking around and wondering why she came here. It’ll be nice not to cook, she supposes. She should’ve brought something to do, though.

It’s Seth, not Josiah, who stops by next. He gives her a plate, a glass of beer, and a heavy glare.

Ellie glares back, but Seth doesn’t say anything. As soon as his back turns, she sticks her tongue out at him.

“Fucker,” she mutters. The guy beside her turns a little. She hunches her shoulders and turns away from him.

\--

The beer doesn’t help. Alcohol really never helps. It just makes her wallow in how pathetic and hopeless she is, which leads her to that tape in her mind of Dina turning away and saying _I don’t like you like that_ , which drops her down a rabbit hole of Dina in the abstract.

The two beers at the diner only really get her halfway through that process, but it’s enough to feel that pull, that draw to lay eyes on Dina, for better or worse. So, when Ellie steps outside, her feet take her toward the bonfire pit, not toward home.

It’s a Friday, so there’s almost certainly a bonfire, and Dina fucking loves bonfires, so she’s probably there. Ellie knows Dina’s probably there _with_ Jesse, probably extremely with Jesse, like sitting in his lap or leaning all over him or something, like she always does when they’re not on a break.

But still. Dina’s probably there. And knowing that, just that alone, she can’t help herself.

\--

Dina’s not there.

Ellie actually comes to a complete stop inside the gate, because she’s never encountered this situation before—and never had to decide what to do next.

The bonfire’s already in full swing, with a group around the fire, everyone nursing a cup, the flames high as twilight falls. There’s no Dina in the group, though, nor Jesse.

Andre sees her. “Hey, Ellie,” he says, leaning back so she can hear him over the loud conversation from the group. “There’s a seat over there.”

He points, and Ellie’s not sure how to escape now that she’s been spotted, so she shuffles over to the open spot and drops heavily on the log. By the time she sits, Chad’s come over and stuck a drink in her hand, and now it really seems like she can’t just sneak back out.

“Hey.”

That voice about shoots Ellie right out of her skin. She looks to her right fearfully and sure enough, it’s Cat, sitting right there, right on the log beside her.

“Cat,” she says, paralyzed.

Cat has her hair down tonight, framing her face in the soft glow of the firelight. She still has the same dark, pretty eyes, the same soft face. Her cheekbones are a little stronger now, her face a little more adult. Ellie sees a glimpse of another path for herself, if she hadn’t fucked everything up with Cat—if they’d stayed together, grown a year older together, spent a whole year in love.

But, no. That was never possible. Ellie is who she is, and Cat needed something more than she could give.

Ellie looks down at her drink. Cat sips her own and says, mildly, “You don’t have to do that every time we bump into each other.”

Ellie’s ears burn. “I’m not doing anything,” she mutters, taking a sip from the cup. It’s vodka, not whiskey, and it tastes more like lighter fluid than either. She grimaces as it goes down.

Cat snorts softly. “Yeah, okay,” she says.

“Pay attention!” Chad scolds them suddenly. He points at the kid across from him—a younger kid, one Ellie hasn’t met, or hasn’t remembered meeting. “He said drink if you ever got high.”

Ellie raises an eyebrow at the kid in disbelief. “Who the fuck hasn’t gotten high?” she asks while Cat takes her obligatory drink.

The kid just shrugs. Ellie shakes her head and drinks, herself.

Chad points at the next person. Ellie squints, trying to remember his name, when he says, “Okay, everybody take a drink for every person you’ve had sex with.”

“That’s not how this works,” Candice complains. “You have to say ‘never have I ever’ and then say something you never did.”

“Don’t worry,” Andre laughs, “he never did it.”

To Cat, Ellie mutters, “I am not drunk enough to play this with these people.”

Cat smiles at her, just a little. “It’s only gonna get worse.”

“Fine,” Chad arbitrates over the chatter, “never did he ever have sex. Drink if you’re drinking.”

Ellie and Cat glance at each other, a little shyly, and drink.

\--

Cat nudges Ellie’s arm. “You have to drink to that, too,” she says with a secretive smile.

Ellie blushes—or maybe she was already blushing from the booze. “I do?”

Cat gives her the _you’re a doofus_ look, one eyebrow up. “Trust me.”

Ellie doesn’t really want to ask why, or what 69ing is, so she just drinks.

\--

This is actually probably the first time she stayed in this long on one of the drinking games. Chad is all excited about keeping everyone’s drinks full, so she doesn’t even realize how much she’s had until she leans down to put her cup on the ground and the world spins a little.

“Fuck,” she says, touching her head.

A hand touches her back, between her shoulder blades. Ellie blinks and looks over and it’s Cat, of course, because Cat’s sitting next to her.

“You alright?” Cat asks. She has this look on her face, this concerned look, that reminds Ellie of Dina.

“Yeah,” Ellie says, squeezing her eyes shut and then back open.

“Never have I ever had sex with two people,” says the nameless dude across the fire from them.

Andre says, “Like, at the same time?”

“No, like, a second person, like, after the first one. So, like, if you’ve fucked more than one person, ever.”

Ellie takes a deep breath and sits up.

Cat rubs her back, just a little, and says, “It’s okay, you’re already drunk; you don’t have to drink.”

Ellie blinks in confusion. “I know I don’t have to drink.”

Cat hesitates. “You mean you never…?”

Ellie stares at her. “No,” she says, surprised. “I mean. With who?”

“I thought—with…” Cat looks at her strangely.

Ellie waits—then laughs. “Cat,” she says quietly, or tries to say quietly, “you’re the only other, like, gay girl I’ve ever met.”

Cat just looks at her, frowning. Ellie can’t figure out what she’s missing.

“It’s just, like, you and me,” Ellie tries again, pointing between them, “in this whole fucking town.”

Cat’s expression shifts a little, like she’s clicking something into place, and she goes, “Hmm,” that way she does.

It’s so crazy that Cat is still here: still the same person Ellie remembers, still just walking around Jackson being the person who just decided they didn’t work, and that they both had to walk around heartbroken instead.

“It really sucks,” Ellie begins, not knowing where she’s going, “that, like… that we broke up. You know?”

Cat draws back a little, glancing at the rest of the group. Quietly, just to Ellie, she asks, “You’re not still hung up on me, are you, El?”

Ellie searches herself. She’s not, really. Cat is part of Ellie’s past. But, it’s hard not to miss that feeling of being wanted, of being loved back.

“I think I’m just lonely,” Ellie says, way too honestly. “It’s just, like… lonely.”

Cat looks at her with those eyes. They look soft. Sad. Cat touches Ellie’s arm. “Yeah,” she says, her voice thin. “It is.”

\--

Ellie stands up unsteadily, then realizes she forgot her cup on the ground. Cat’s standing next to her, suddenly, touching her elbow, before she can bend over to retrieve it. It takes a second for the world to stop rocking on the waves.

“I think you had enough,” Cat says in that gentle way she has.

Ellie opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. The moment stretches. Time stretches.

“Come on,” Cat says then, turning Ellie by the arm and taking a step toward the gate. “I’ll walk you home.”

\--

It feels like a weird dream, or a memory, walking the dark streets, tipsy, Cat steadying her. Cat’s a little more somber, a little more sober; Ellie’s a little sadder, a little drunker. But the overall picture is similar.

Evidently vodka and whiskey work the same, because Ellie thinks about Dina while they walk. Is Dina at home on her own, lighting a candle, fluffing a pillow? Is she at Jesse’s house on the roof, looking at the stars?

No. They’re probably fucking.

The thought is like a sudden fall into icy water. Bracing.

If Cat notices her stiffen, she doesn’t say anything. Ellie feels more sober now, more aware. Cat feels far away, even though they’re touching. It’s hard to believe they shared an orbit once. Now they’re in separate galaxies.

Ellie struggles for something to say, but comes up empty. Always empty.

\--

At the door, Ellie turns the key slowly. She draws back, her hands limp at her sides; Cat hovers next to her, ready to disappear when the door opens, another ghost blown away on the wind.

Ellie doesn’t open the door.

For a moment, they both just stand there, two stars in the sky: close to the naked eye, but really light years apart.

“Are you—”

Ellie kisses her.

\--

It’s not the same as it was, it’s really not the same, but it feels so much better than the deep, empty nothingness.

\--

Cat lets her, not pushing her away, not kissing back. When Ellie draws back, her hand is cupped against Cat’s neck.

Ellie pulls her hand back.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

Cat looks at her, her face pained, her eyes full of something suddenly recognizable: loneliness.

Cat starts to say something, then stops. “This doesn’t mean…”

Ellie waits, frozen in place. The cold night air snakes into the collar of her shirt.

“It can’t mean anything,” Cat says, her eyes sliding away and back again.

“Okay,” Ellie says, not sure what she means.

Cat takes her face in her hands and kisses her, hard.

\--

Cat kisses her with force, with hunger, coaxing that lonely, empty darkness up and out of Ellie until it presses Cat against the door. Cat touches her firmly, purposefully; her hands slide under Ellie’s blue overshirt and over her sides and up her back. Ellie grips Cat’s waist and wonders if this is how Dina and Jesse start, and she hates herself for it.

\--

Cat ducks her head back, panting, her face flushed. “Ellie,” she says, and even now she looks at her with concern, with the last vestiges of love. “Are you too drunk for this?”

It hurts. It hurts that Cat still cares this much; that she cares for Ellie more than Ellie does.

“No,” Ellie says, forcefully, “no, I’m not.”

Cat searches her face, searching for a reason to say no, a reason to turn away and go home, a reason to leave Ellie alone with the void again, alone with her solitude and sadness.

Ellie frowns and kisses her again, nips her lip with her teeth. She moves back just a little, less than an inch, and says quietly, “Tell me no.”

Cat looks at her; her hands clutch at Ellie’s back. Her eyes are dark and murky under the porch light.

“Tell me no,” Ellie says again, “or come inside.”

Cat’s face clears, the way it does when she makes a decision.

She opens the door.

\--

There’s no pretense now, no shyness or games. They tumble inside and Ellie kicks the door shut and grabs the collars of both shirts to pull them over her head. When they drop to the floor, Cat’s turned on the light by the door for some reason.

Cat touches her immediately, kissing her and walking her back toward the bed, her hands warm on Ellie’s bare chest. Ellie finds the hem of Cat’s hoodie and pushes it up, bunches up the shirt below it, until her hands find skin. She breaks the kiss to strip them over Cat’s head. Cat opens her jeans and takes them off, her shoes lost somewhere behind them.

Ellie’s calf hits the bed and she sits down, looking up, reaching out. Cat steps into her hands, her silhouette backlit by the lamp, inked shadows crawling up her arms and onto her shoulders.

Even in pitch dark, she’d look nothing like Dina. Maybe that’s why she turned the light on. So Ellie can’t just close her eyes and pretend.

Just like the first time, so many lifetimes ago, Cat plants a knee on either side of Ellie’s hips and kisses her. Unlike the first time, Ellie tastes some of that lonely darkness on Cat’s lips, that familiar hunger and emptiness.

Cat lays Ellie back onto the covers, dragging her mouth along her jaw and throat, moving down to close her lips on her nipple. Ellie gasps and her fingers thread through Cat’s silky hair; her other hand lands on Cat’s waist. Cat grabs it and slides it down over her underwear.

“Touch me,” Cat says against her skin. A command.

Ellie snakes her fingers around the fabric and slides two inside her. Cat pushes herself up, one hand on the bed and one on Ellie’s chest, and sinks down on her carefully. Ellie curls her fingers and Cat bites her lip.

Ellie bites her lip, too. She feels tears prick the corners of her eyes.

Cat digs her nails into Ellie’s chest, just beside her heart. She tilts her hips back a little. One bra strap falls off her shoulder.

Ellie grips Cat’s hipbone with her free hand and adjusts her wrist so her thumb presses Cat’s clit. Cat starts to rock and Ellie moves with her, catching and meeting her.

Cat doesn’t look her in the eyes, at all.

\--

When they were together, sex felt connective, nourishing. They really never just fucked.

This feels like fucking.

\--

After Cat comes, she climbs off the bed and undoes Ellie’s jeans while Ellie props up on her elbows. “You don’t have to,” Ellie says, but Cat pulls her pants and underwear down over her knees to her ankles, then parts Ellie’s knees and buries her face in Ellie with the kind of confidence born of familiarity.

It never takes her long this way, and Ellie comes quick—almost quick enough to outrun the void yawning open, the loneliness chasing her.

But, as soon as she’s done, as Cat sits back and wipes her mouth and avoids her eyes, as Ellie pulls her pants back on, the loneliness catches up.

\--

Ellie swallows, watching Cat get dressed. She’s tempted to ask her to stay, but it seems pointless. She still feels alone even with Cat here.

It feels like there should something to say. Like at least Ellie should say sorry, for fucking them up, breaking them up. Or thank you, for this taste of solace, for this moment of human contact, for this faint reprise of love long buried.

But, even as Cat pulls her hair out of the collar of her hoodie, even as she turns her back and walks out the door without a backward glance, neither of them says a word.


	21. The Dance

A few weeks later, when Jesse tries to bring up Cat again, Ellie shuts him down hard.

“I know you’re trying to help, but you have to knock that shit off,” she says, checking over her shoulder to make sure Dina hasn’t shown up yet.

Jesse lifts his eyebrows and shrugs. “I’m just saying—”

“I’m serious. There’s nothing there. Leave it alone.”

Jesse shrugs and takes the reins back. “Suit yourself.”

\--

Not long after the first snowfall, Maria puts Ellie with Joel on a route to the northwest. It doesn’t chafe quite as badly as it used to, working with him, now that he’s mostly quit trying to talk to her. Now he just gives her these mournful, moony glances when he thinks she’s not looking.

It’s easy enough not to look.

The ride to the lookout is quiet enough, but they get sidetracked on the way back chasing down runners over the hill. As soon as they pass the peak, the snow gives way to ice, and they slide down into the side of an overturned car half-buried at the bottom. The noise lures two clickers they have to dispatch; beyond the car, there’s a gutted-out building crawling with infected.

“Seems like a lot of them,” Joel says quietly.

“We are on patrol,” Ellie whispers back. She grips her switchblade, her left hand touching the frosted metal of the car.

Joel squints at the hill behind them, considering. It looks like a long way up from this side. A long, icy way up.

Ellie crouches and rushes up to the wall fronting the building. She creeps around the corner and takes out a runner. Deeper inside, she hears the croaking of stalkers.

Past the crumbling outer wall, she hears Joel hiss, “Ellie?”

She steps back around the corner into sight and puts a finger to her lips. “Stalkers.”

Joel nods, crouches, and draws his pistol. Ellie draws hers and sneaks back inside, listening for movement. Two rooms in, stuffing a half-empty bottle of rubbing alcohol in her bag, she hears the croaking close behind and turns around, firing the second she registers the fungal plates.

The stalker’s head pops in a burst of red.

There’s a blur of motion through the busted window over her shoulder, and then a second stalker makes a grab for her that she barely dodges. It scrabbles at her and croaks loudly; she staves it off at arm’s reach, barely buying the time to draw her knife so she can open its throat.

As the body falls, it clips a tray on the counter beside her, making a loud, metallic clatter against the floor.

“Fuck.”

From all directions, she hears the voices of runners and clickers coming to life, attracted to the noise.

Gunshots from the far side. Ellie draws the lead pipe from her bag and takes off toward the shots, catching a runner by surprise on the way. The pipe crushes its head like stepping on a rotted pumpkin.

Two rooms over, she sees him, mobbed by a group of runners. “Joel!” she yells, drawing the two closer runners to her. The first goes down from a few blows with the pipe; the second almost grapples her, but she ducks under its arm and buries her knife in the back of its head, all the way to the hilt.

Joel’s picked off two more in the meantime. She shoves her knife in her pocket and draws her pistol in time to take out a third. Joel goes at the last one with his fist because he’s as big an idiot as he is an asshole.

“Joel!” she yells again. He socks the runner again as she says it, and the runner staggers back, stunned from the blow. Ellie pops its head with a bullet.

No infected left. They both stay quiet for a moment, listening for more footsteps.

“Think we’re good,” Joel says, looking at her uncertainly.

Ellie shakes her head at him. She looks down to reload her pistol.

“You shouldn’t be so reckless,” he says, like he just can’t help himself.

Ellie looks up in disbelief. “Me? Reckless? You just fucking punched—” She cuts herself off. Shakes her head and turns away. “Never mind.”

Before he can say anything else, she ducks out of the room to look for supplies. She can’t explain how she can still be so mad at him but still want him safe. How she can still worry about him, after everything that happened.

And she definitely can’t explain it when they’re still not talking to each other.

\--

By the time they get back to Jackson, she’s reformatted the day in her mind. When Dina asks how her route was, she shows the appropriate mix of excitement and pride.

It’s not a complete lie. An eventful patrol shift does make Ellie excited; proud. She loves the adrenaline; the feeling of power; knowing just what to do, on instinct; never second-guessing a dodge or a blow.

It’s just not the whole story.

\--

This year, Dina does ask her about the dance.

“So? Are you going?”

An insufferable, unkillable part of her wonders if Dina has a romantic ulterior motive. Ellie imagines taking careful hold of that part and opening its throat with her knife.

“Probably not,” she says, shrugging. She keeps her eyes on the bonfire, on the flames licking the air.

She can feel Dina looking at her. She stares resolutely at the fire.

“Maybe you should,” Dina says innocently.

Ellie imagines Dina taking the knife out of her hand and gracefully closing up the open jugular. Patching up her sad, desperate, pathetic, rotten hope.

Ellie stretches her legs out and crosses them, ironing her voice out as flat and normal as possible as she asks, “You going with Jesse?”

It’d be easier if Dina said yes. But instead, Dina shrugs.

“He’ll probably be there,” she says in that disinterested tone she uses when they’re on another break.

Ellie scoffs and shakes her head.

Dina pushes her shoulder, then leaves her hand there. The magnet is too strong; Ellie turns to look at her and really, looking at her is all it takes. She can never say no when Dina looks at her like this, with that warm smile, that knowing frown.

“You should come,” Dina repeats.

Ellie looks at her, at her warm, dark eyes, and struggles against the pull, struggles to say no, to say she’s staying home.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

\--

Ellie gets ready early. Really early.

She barely had any appetite. She uses the time to stress out about what to wear, instead.

It’s almost like she’s possessed. She knows, _knows_ , nothing is going to happen at this dance. She can hear it in her head, a mantra: _I don’t like you like that_. It almost feels like a memory instead of a fear, now. It almost feels like it happened, like Dina actually said it to her, and all this pain and pining is penance for daring to want something she shouldn’t have.

Yet some part of her still hopes. Still tries. Still waits.

Stupid.

It really doesn’t matter what she wears, she reminds herself, doing and undoing the top buttons in front of the bathroom mirror. Nothing she wears could make her into what Dina wants. Dina just wants Jesse, even if this week she’s pretending not to.

She starts to roll the sleeves up, then stops partway. The fern leaves peek out under the light blue fabric. The tattoo Dina hates, or maybe likes. Cat’s fingerprints on her skin forever. The moth, the message—aspirational, unreachable.

Ellie touches the leaves, transfixed.

New life.

\--

She rolls the sleeve down and buttons the cuffs.

\--

Rather than actually show up at five for a seven o’clock event, Ellie boots up the PS3 and puts in the first game she played with Dina when she got it last year. Maybe it would feel like a good luck ritual, to someone who believed in that kind of thing.

Ellie doesn’t really believe in luck.

\--

After all that stalling, Ellie still shows up right at the start of the dance. Tommy and a couple other guys are still setting things up; the dance floor is empty but for a single cluster of people chatting; the bottles on the bar are neat, orderly, and the cups are in two tidy stacks.

Ellie lingers against the wall, self-conscious of showing up with the old people and a little leery of alcohol since that night with Cat.

Maria comes up beside her, matching her pose, back to the wall and arms folded. “Nice to see you out and about,” Maria says.

Ellie scoffs. “Yeah.”

Maria looks at her. “You look nice.”

Ellie frowns. “Thank you?”

Maria takes a deep breath, like she’s going to say something scary or rude or personal—but she just blows the air out and shakes her head. She stands up and puts a hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “Try to have some fun tonight, huh?”

“Sure.”

Maria looks at her one more moment, then pats her shoulder and walks away.

\--

The music is going and the dance floor is starting to look respectably filled in when Dina shows up. As soon as she walks in, the energy goes up. She talks to five people before she even gets through the door.

She doesn’t see Ellie’s hiding spot. It’s odd to be able to admire Dina’s sunlight without getting caught in it. Here in the corner, there’s no one to call her out for staring at Dina: at the graceful line of her neck; the dull gloss of her hair; the shine of her boots as she clicks the heels in response to some joke. The song transitions to something lively, and Dina’s face lights up, her joy easy and palpable.

Dina catches someone’s hands—Andre, it looks like—and pulls him onto the floor, turning right into the round, twirling and giggling and goofing off.

It’s not exactly an intimate dance, but Ellie wonders what it would be like in Andre’s shoes. Probably not that different than what they do already, Ellie muses, since Dina leans on her and touches her and plays with her hands a lot. But they don’t _hold_ hands. Not like that. Not like _men and women_ do. Not like she and Cat did.

Dina dances with Andre and then Chad, twice, probably because Chad’s pushy, and then she begrudgingly dances with Jesse, even though she glares at him almost the whole time. Then the music changes again and Dina starts up a line dance. It’s hard to say if she actually knows a line for every song there is, or if she’s improvising or repurposing them. Her movements are so confident, it always seems like she knows the steps by heart.

Some of the younger kids hop in immediately, drawn in by the song or Dina’s magnetism or both. Ellie knows Dina’s been through some shit—you have to be, to end up in Jackson with nothing and no one at like fourteen—but she still seems so happy, so joyful and unencumbered. Ellie wonders what secret Dina knows, what she knows or understands that Ellie doesn’t, to shake off those burdens so easily.

Wait.

Ellie scans the floor again. Dina’s gone.

“Ellie!”

Ellie startles, clutching her chest. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

“You came!” she says, surprised, happy, her eyes pulling Ellie in like dry dirt drinking in rain.

“I came,” Ellie says, shrugging. She should’ve gotten an empty cup to fiddle with.

Dina grabs Ellie’s hand, swinging it between them. “You gonna dance with me?”

Ellie almost swallows her tongue.

She looks down at their hands—Dina’s so casual, like they do this all the time—and back up. “Uh,” she stalls, “I don’t know if I’m drunk enough for that.”

Dina rolls her eyes and starts pulling her onto the floor. Ellie almost trips to keep up.

“What’s the matter,” Dina teases, “got cold feet?”

“No—”

The music is slower than Ellie realized. Before she can process it, before she can prepare or dodge, Dina loops her arms around Ellie’s neck—so cool, so casual. Ellie feels electrified.

“Probably from wearing those shoes in the snow, dummy,” Dina continues.

Ellie struggles for a comeback. She has to say something, or Dina will definitely realize she’s acting weird. “The snow’s not that bad. You just can’t handle it.”

Dina rolls her eyes. “Uh huh.”

Then Dina bites her lips into her mouth.

“Here,” Dina says. She drops her arms—and grabs Ellie’s hands, where they hover a few inches above her waist, and pushes them so they make contact. Then she rests hers back on Ellie’s shoulders.

Ellie can’t even hear the music. All she hears is her pulse pounding in her ears and Dina’s voice.

_I don’t like you like that._

“You sure you’re not drunk?” Dina says, looking at her suspiciously.

Ellie looks aside for a second. “Maybe a little,” she lies. The lie is easier than the truth.

Dina narrows her eyes and smiles. “I don’t know if I believe that,” she says. “You’re not staring enough to be drunk.”

Ellie flushes. “I don’t stare when I’m drunk.”

Dina rolls her eyes.

Is this a dream?

Ellie lets her hands settle, just a millimeter, and feels Dina’s waist beneath the blouse, warm and real.

Then, in slow motion, swimming through amber, Dina bends her arms and draws closer, their faces inches apart. It feels like they’re going to kiss.

Instead, Dina shakes her head, wearing that little smirk and saying, “You really do, Ellie,” her voice low and conspiratorial, like it’s a secret.

Her eyes are warm and dark. They look only at Ellie, scanning her, mapping her.

Ellie bites her lip and looks aside.

Dina pulls back from her, her fingers laced against the back of Ellie’s neck. “You seem down tonight,” she says, her smile dimming.

Ellie sees a flash of that dream, that nightmare: Dina frowning, turning away, saying _It’s not like that, I don’t like you like that_.

Before Ellie can construct a response, Dina skims down Ellie’s arm and takes her hand. She lifts it over their heads, nudging Ellie in toward her.

“Spin, dummy!” Dina says, laughing that beautiful laugh.

Ellie does, laughing, clumsy with their arms in the way, finishing the turn a beat too late.

Dina’s grinning again, happy to see Ellie happy. Ellie tucks her smile in, in case it gives too much away. Dina teases, “If I never saw you in action on patrol, I’d never believe it.”

Ellie snorts. “Can’t handle these moves?”

Dina settles her hands on Ellie’s shoulders again. “No one on Earth can handle those moves,” she says sarcastically.

Ellie looks aside again. Jesse’s leaning on the bar, watching them.

“You might be right.”

\--

When the song changes, Ellie begs off to get a drink. Instead, she ducks outside to gulp down a lungful of cold winter air. She looks down at the snow and considers sticking her whole face down in it to shock her system into resetting.

“What was that?”

Jesse. Ellie feels a jolt of fear run through her. Did he finally notice? Did she finally give herself away?

“What was what?” she asks, forcing herself to sound neutral. She doesn’t turn toward him, even when he walks up next to her and leans on the railing.

“Dina.”

Fuck.

Ellie’s breath hitches. What can she say? Should she just apologize? Should she flee?

Jesse rubs his neck. “Did she say anything about me?”

Oh.

“No,” she says, shaky and more than a little relieved. She squeezes the railing and locks her elbows out; tilts to one side. “No, uh, she didn’t.”

Jesse sighs. “Figures.”

Ellie stares at the snow.

“She didn’t say a word that whole song we danced to. Can you believe that?” He scoffs.

Ellie scrapes her thumbnail against the grain of the wood. “Yeah,” she says, not sure what else to say.

Jesse sighs again, more at himself this time. He takes a drink. “Well, I’ll see you in there.”

“Right.”

He walks back inside. Ellie sighs and drops to her elbows, leaning heavily on the railing and peering up at the sky.

How long can she keep doing this?

\--

Ellie doesn’t go back inside. She can’t handle even one more song at Dina’s side, or in Dina’s arms. It’s too much.

\--

Joel’s on his porch when she walks by on the way home. She can see the cloud of his breath; the halo of light crowning his head. He’s playing that first song he taught her. When he looks up, she looks away and hurries past.

At home, she gives herself permission to wallow. She plays the saddest song she knows and lingers on all the people she’s lost. All the tragedy in her short, shitty life. It does put things in perspective, so her hopeless crush on Dina feels smaller, but the deep, unfeeling void inside her yawns wider and wider.

Ellie usually skips the line, but tonight she sings it: “ _I’m going there to meet my father, and all my loved ones who’ve gone on._ ” Although he’s not her dad, it makes her think of Joel.

When Joel taught her the song, he told her it was about heaven. Joel was all into that heaven, Jesus, God shit. To Ellie, it seemed naïve. How could you live in this godforsaken world and believe there was anything good waiting on the other side? She knows better than anyone that hope is for suckers.

The line kind of fits, though. Because the only way back for her and Joel is reaching the end of the line. The only way out is through.

Fat chance of that.

\--

A couple days later, Dina doesn’t show up for the patrol roundup. Jesse and Maria try to play it off like it was planned, but Ellie saw Dina’s name on the schedule.

After patrol, Ellie jogs to Dina’s and tries the door. Tries knocking. No answer.

Jesse probably found her already and figured it out. Ellie tells herself that at the door, and the whole way home, and after she gets home, while she burns her dinner and rereads the same page of her book over and over.

She barely makes it past sundown before her feet carry her back to Dina’s door. She can’t shake the worry; can’t shake the feeling something is wrong. On paper, she knows it’s not her place, really, to worry like this, but she can’t help it.

This time, when she knocks, Dina calls, “Fuck _off_ , Jesse.”

Ellie tries the handle and the door opens.

\--

“Jesse, I said—oh.”

Dina’s apartment is dark, except for a few lit candles on the dresser. The little flames draw a dim outline of Dina, sitting on the bed facing them, her shoulders hunched. Her eyes reflect the sliver of moonlight from the open door.

“Dina,” Ellie says uncertainly. She hovers, still clutching the handle.

Dina stays still for a moment, then turns back toward the candles. “You can come in.” Her voice sounds strange. Tight.

Ellie steps inside and quietly presses the door shut. The click of the latch sounds loud. Ellie sticks her hands in her jacket pockets.

The silence stretches. As her eyes adjust, Ellie can see Dina’s wearing her jacket and holster, like she’s about to leave for patrol.

Ellie clears her throat. “Did you, um, did you hear they put a restaurant on the moon?”

Dina’s head tilts down slightly. “What?” she asks in a rough whisper.

Ellie walks over to stand next to the foot of the bed. From here, she can see one side of Dina’s face. It looks like she’s been crying.

“I heard the food was good, but it had no atmosphere,” Ellie says gently.

Dina turns toward her and frowns, but at least she’s making eye contact.

“Because on the moon,” Ellie explains, still keeping her voice low, “there’s no atmosphere.”

Dina blinks, then squeezes her eyes shut. Her lip curls, just a little. “That’s so stupid.”

Ellie approaches hesitantly. Dina drops her chin back down, staring at some spot between her and the bottom drawer of her dresser; Ellie sits beside her on the bed.

This is really the first time she’s ever seen Dina like this. Dina’s normally so invincible, unflappable.

What would Dina want?

Hesitantly, Ellie reaches over and rests her hand on Dina’s back, her palm flat and still. Despite the context, her pulse speeds up. She can feel the ridge of Dina’s shoulder blade, the valley of her spine. Her back rises slightly against Ellie’s hand as she inhales.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Ellie asks. It’s hard to tell if Dina wants her there at all. It’s hard to tell if she should stay or go.

Dina scrubs a hand over her face and barks a single, humorless laugh. “Not having the best day,” she says, a little self-consciously. Like she knows how obvious it is.

Ellie bites her lips into her mouth. She decides to just wait.

Dina touches her hair, her ponytail. “You ever feel like somebody wants something you can’t give them?”

Ellie’s breath catches. Does she mean—this? Does she know what Ellie wants?

No. Dina’s shaking her head, looking away. Ellie can tell, somehow, that it isn’t about her.

“Yeah,” she says. Really, she feels that way all the time. Dina wants friendship. Joel wants forgiveness. Cat wanted trust, openness.

Dina looks at her now—searches her. In the dim light, Dina’s eyes shine like glass. The candles throw flickering shadows across her brows and nose.

Ellie can feel it: the pull. Dina’s eyes drawing her in. Drawing her out.

Then Dina breaks it; looks away. She moves her hands off the bed, lets her shoulders relax, and laces her fingers together with her elbows resting on her knees. “I just—it feels too big sometimes, you know?” she says. “You can’t, like, invest so much in one person. It’s not… What if you lose them?”

Ellie knows that fear. But it’s too late for her. It’s already too big, this thing with Dina. She’s already too invested. The only part left is not losing her.

But what does Dina mean by it?

“Like… Jesse?”

Dina turns to her, almost sharp. Her eyes are fierce, heavy. They seem to grab Ellie, to pull her down. Struggling. Drowning.

Ellie’s hand falls from Dina’s back.

Dina puts her face in her hands.

“Yeah,” she says through her fingers, muffled. She sounds resigned, somehow. Guarded. “Jesse.”

Ellie twists her fingers together in her lap. “I don’t think you’re gonna lose him,” she offers, not sure what Dina needs to hear. “He’s kind of clingy,” she adds, joking.

A pause. The candles flicker.

Dina draws a shaky breath. “After Talia,” she says softly, “I learned my lesson. Anyone is… No one’s safe. Nothing’s permanent. If you get too close…” She drops her hands and shakes her head. “I mean, if you get too close, it just hurts, sooner or later. You know?”

Ellie bites her lip.

Dina looks at her, her eyebrows tipped upward. “That’s what happened with Joel last year, isn’t it?”

Ellie looks at her, caught. “I…”

“It’s okay,” Dina says, squeezing her eyes shut like she’s kicking herself, like she knew better. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me or whatever, I just mean—I know what that looks like.” She opens her eyes and looks at Ellie’s hands. “Letting someone that close and then watching it go wrong.”

Ellie looks at her hands, too. “Yeah,” she says, barely voiced.

Dina wipes her eyes. “Sorry. I just… This time of year is hard.”

Ellie puts her hand on Dina’s knee. It’s an instinct that surprises her, but she forces herself not to pull back. “It’s hard for me, too,” she says, dragging her eyes up to Dina’s.

Dina softens, and Ellie feels herself falling. This time, it feels like she’s looking into Dina, seeing into her. Her face is the brightest, warmest thing in the dark room, and it pulls Ellie like a magnet, like a flame.

It feels like they’re going to kiss.

This time, the thought sends Ellie reeling with guilt. Dina needs a friend more than anything in this moment, and still Ellie betrays her—betrays them both. Ellie starts to withdraw, to pull her eyes and hands away, but as she does, Dina’s arms encircle her.

Ellie stalls. Dina fits against her, head against her shoulder, her embrace warm and solid and purposeful. Her arms are heavy and calming around Ellie’s shoulders. Slowly, fearfully, Ellie hugs back, her hands tentative on Dina’s waist.

“Thanks for checking on me,” Dina says. Her mouth is so close. Her breath is warm on Ellie’s ear. Ellie shivers.

“Yeah,” Ellie says, her voice rough. She stares at the candle flames. “Of course.”


	22. A Bridge Too Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrol, risks, and the people we leave behind.

Maria is waiting at the gate, frowning, her arms crossed. “What the hell happened out there?” she asks as they dismount.

Astrid gives Ellie a look. “Bloater,” she says to Maria.

Ellie says nothing. She wonders if Astrid will tattle on her. It’s hard to say.

“You need medical?” Maria asks, scrutinizing them. Ellie knows they both look a mess: their faces are streaked with blood and dirt; Astrid has a long cut across her ear, still oozing; Ellie has scratches and a growing bruise on her shoulder and collarbone, probably visible. She had to wrap cuts on both arms as well, but they’re hidden under her jacket.

“I don’t,” she volunteers. “Just need a shower and some ice.” And not an awkward encounter with Cat, please.

“Think I’m alright,” Astrid says gruffly. She’s still glaring sidelong at Ellie. “Nothing a little sleep won’t fix.”

Maria stares at both of them, clearly disapproving. After a pause, she lets out a long-suffering sigh. “All of you are way too stubborn for me,” she grumbles. “Fine. You better look a lot better when you show up for work tomorrow, though.”

Astrid shifts her eyes to Maria. To Ellie, without looking, she says, “You should get home. I need to talk to Maria.”

So Astrid is going to tattle. Perfect.

\--

The damage doesn’t actually look that bad, after a shower. Most of it’s superficial, scrapes and bruises. Ellie’s left elbow is scraped up pretty bad, but it’s not bleeding anymore. Ellie fills a bucket with cold water and sticks her bloodied shirt and jacket in there to soak, then pulls on clean jeans and a sweatshirt.

While dinner cooks on the stove, she goes through her bag, reloading her pistol and consolidating leftover supplies. Usually she drops off materials after shift, but today was a weird day, so her bag still has a few mostly-empty containers of alcohol, some scraps of cloth, an empty glass bottle. She organizes them to drop off tomorrow.

She flips absently through Savage Starlight while she eats. She rereads them more out of habit than interest, now that she knows them almost by heart, but sometimes one panel or line will grab her, run through her head for days. Today, she stumbles across Captain Ryan yelling, _Do you have a death wish?_

She stares at that one for a while.

\--

Ellie can hear the party at the bonfire before she even gets to the gate. Tonight’s her weekly ritual, part of her attempt to keep herself in check around Dina. It was hard to make herself come tonight.

She started coming to the bonfire every week to force herself to sit with the truth: that she’s nothing special to Dina; that Dina’s like that with everyone; or, on a night like this one, that Dina’s with Jesse. It hurts, but the practice seems to be helping, because every time the pain is less of a surprise.

Dina must already be drunk, because when Ellie comes through the gate, Dina hops right out of Jesse’s lap and runs right up to her.

“Hey!” Dina says, smiling at her, grabbing her hand. Her eyes are wide and bright. The sour scent of alcohol clings to her.

“Hey,” Ellie says, letting Dina bring her over and sit her down next to Jesse.

Dina squeezes in between them, even though she didn’t leave enough room. “What happened on your patrol today?”

Ellie admires her for just a second—her smooth, warm face; her firelit eyes—and then aims her gaze at the bonfire. “We were checking out this parking garage and fell down to the lower levels,” Ellie recounts. “Ran into a bloater down there. Pretty gnarly.”

“Jesus,” Jesse says, shaking his head. He sounds just like Maria.

“I heard you went off on your own,” Dina says. There’s an edge in her voice, a warning. It comes through clearer when she drinks.

Ellie rubs her neck. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Yeah, right,” Jesse chimes in.

Ellie glances at him. He looks almost mad.

“Doing that stuff is dangerous,” Jesse says. “For you _and_ for Astrid.”

Ellie bristles. “What do you want from me? The fucking floor fucking fell apart.”

Jesse glares at her, then looks away and shakes his head. “Whatever, Ellie.”

Dina presses her leg against Ellie’s and puts a hand on her knee. “Please don’t fucking, like, die out there,” Dina says, trying and failing to say it lightly. “That would really suck.”

Ellie clasps her hands and squeezes them between her thighs. “Yeah… I know.”

“Astrid said you disappeared, and she only found you ‘cause you yelled when the floor fell,” Jesse says. Maybe he’s drunk too, or he drank just enough that he can’t help himself.

“Spare me the lecture,” Ellie mutters. “We still cleared it.”

Jesse leans back and crosses his arms. He’s glaring at the bonfire, not at her. “You really need to deal with that death wish of yours.”

“I don’t have a fucking death wish,” she snaps. “I was doing my fucking job. Fuck off, Jesse.”

Apparently that’s a bridge too far, because Jesse sighs loudly and stands up. “Sorry I care about you, man. I don’t want you to die doing something stupid. You can’t be a hero _and_ a martyr. Just be the hero.”

Ellie frowns and opens her mouth to respond, but Jesse shakes his head again and says, “I’m gonna bounce. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” He bends down to give Dina a chaste kiss goodbye, then storms out through the gate—as much as a softie like Jesse can storm out of anything.

Ellie rubs her neck and stands up. “I need a drink,” she mutters.

\--

Ellie pours herself a drink, then pours one for Dina, too, half-full. When she brings them back over, Dina’s still in the middle of the log, so Ellie has to sit close again, nearly touching. She holds the cup out to Dina.

“Question for you,” Dina says as she takes it.

Ellie looks at their drinks, then at the fire, waiting.

“How come you’re so, like, quiet and sweet, and then on patrol you’re like… so different?”

Ellie considers, then snorts and smirks into her drink. “You are, too. Being on patrol is just different.”

Dina laughs. “Fuck you. I’m not sweet.”

Ellie grins. Tries not to look. “You are sometimes.”

Dina lifts her elbow a little and sniffs herself pointedly. “Nope, I am most definitely sour.”

Ellie laughs. “That’s true. You smell like an old shoe right now.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. You love old shoes.”

“You know I have more than one pair of these, right?”

Dina leans into her, shaking her head. “Doesn’t smell that way.”

Ellie starts to laugh, but it doesn’t come out. Ellie bites her lips as Dina presses against her, softening and settling. It occurs to her that this might be the first time she’s seen Dina at a bonfire without Jesse when they aren’t on a break. Apparently that combination means Dina hanging on Ellie.

Not the worst fate.

“I’m serious,” Dina says suddenly, turning to press her nose and mouth against Ellie’s shoulder. “If you die out there, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Ellie swallows, trying to look at the fire, looking at Dina instead. Dina peers up at her, her lashes and brows dark and glossy. Time slows; it stretches the firelight, the cool damp of spring, the heat of Dina’s breath soaking into Ellie’s sweatshirt.

Ellie bites her lip. “Deal.”

\--

As she approaches the house on the way home, warm and withdrawn from the whiskey and Dina’s innocent attention, she hears someone call out to her from Joel’s porch.

At the railing in front of the light, she sees two figures: Joel and Maria.

“Ellie,” Maria calls again. She beckons her over.

Fuck.

Reluctantly, Ellie changes course. “Fuck me,” she mutters, stopping at the bottom stair.

Maria leans her back to the railing, folds her arms, and waves at Joel to speak. He and Ellie look at each other, then away.

“Maria told me about, uh, what happened today,” Joel begins awkwardly. “She says you went off on your own?”

Of course fucking Astrid had to fucking spill her guts to Maria. She barely strings two words together most days and today she gave a whole fucking play-by-play.

“I was just checking for supplies in literally the next room over,” Ellie pushes. “Then the floor gave out.”

“That’s not what Astrid told me,” Maria says, her voice and face hard. She tips her head slightly and glares: a warning.

Joel fiddles with the mug in his hands, turning it back and forth. “Well, I know you know better, ‘cause you’re a smart kid,” he says, “but I’m gonna tell you again anyway: It’s real important you stick to your partner out there. You know how easy things go sideways.”

Ellie scoffs and looks away, shoving her hands in her pouch pocket.

“I know sometimes you think it don’t, but your life does matter,” Joel adds. “You oughta protect it.”

He’s one to fucking talk. He decided she mattered more than any other person in the fucking world. Now the most she has to offer is taking one more bloater down with her.

Maria clears her throat. Ellie keeps glaring at Joel. She hasn’t felt this angry since Salt Lake. It feels like she’s shaking.

Joel starts to say more, then looks down at his mug and turns it again. He glances at Maria, almost sheepish.

Through her teeth, Ellie growls, “Can I go now?”

Maria shakes her head. “We’re not trying to be the bad guys here, Ellie,” she says, trying to gentle her, to tame her like a fucking spooked horse.

She takes a step down toward Ellie and Ellie steps backward.

Maria’s lips press into a flat line. She puts her hands on her hips. “Well, I hoped hearing it from him would work better for you,” she sighs. “But if you pull that on patrol again, you and I are going to have to talk about it.”

Ellie backs away, shaking her head. “Whatever.”

When she turns and walks away, they don’t stop her.

\--

Maybe they’re all a little bit right. Maybe it was dumb to check out the parking garage on her own. She knows it was just luck Astrid even found her again.

The problem is, even if Astrid hadn’t found her, Ellie doesn’t really think it would have been a problem. She had the bloater almost down when Astrid burst onto the scene, guns blazing. She would’ve had a few more bumps and scrapes, maybe, but it wasn’t as dramatic as everyone makes it out to be.

Plus, if she couldn’t give her life for a vaccine, for a way to save the world, the closest she can manage now is taking on a little more risk in the field. She’s the only one who can come back from a bite. Why shouldn’t she take the front line against infected?

Still, more than Maria and Jesse who try to mother her to death, more than Joel who already well overstepped his boundaries, it’s Dina who makes her feel guilty.

Dina, who really cares about her, even if she doesn’t care like _that_.

\--

Another part of the Being Normal Around Dina mission is giving herself an outlet where she’s allowed to be hopelessly, stupidly in love with her best friend. Sometimes drawing, sometimes songs. Lately, especially since the world started to thaw, Ellie’s been learning new songs. Happy songs.

Maybe not happy, objectively. She can’t seem to make songs sound upbeat. But they’re at least happier than what Ellie always used to play. Since Cat, anyway.

She’s working on a new one—barely recognizable, just testing chords and humming notes to harmonize—when her door opens and Dina pops her head in.

Ellie looks up from the couch, startled. She presses her palm to the strings to silence them.

“Uh, hey.”

Dina smiles at her. She has that mischief in her eyes today. “Hey, rock star.”

Ellie bites her lip. “Were you listening at my door again like a huge weirdo?”

Dina’s grin only widens. She steps inside and shuts the door behind her. “I make no apologies.”

“You’re so weird.” Ellie shakes her head.

“It sounded good,” Dina offers, even though that’s not really true. Workshopping a song means playing the same bar over and over, the same notes, and leaving the melody an unresolved mess.

Ellie looks at her skeptically. “Okay, I no longer believe you were listening.”

“It did!” Dina drops her bag and the coat draped over her arm. “And I wouldn’t have to listen outside if you’d ever play for me.”

Ellie folds her arms on the guitar. “Playing is kind of personal for me,” she says, a little defensive. “Sometimes I just…”

Dina walks closer, her thumbs hooked on her belt. On her, the gesture is confident, self-assured.

A little sexy.

Ellie swallows and looks aside. “Whatever. Sometimes I just wanna play for myself.”

Dina softens a little. “That makes sense,” she says, coming around the table to sit next to her, facing her. “I can stop if it actually bothers you. It’s just so tempting. I like your voice. I like hearing what’s going on in there.” She taps Ellie’s forehead with her pointer finger.

Ellie blinks, surprised by a memory of Cat saying something similar, long ago.

She rubs her neck. “You don’t have to… You can listen. It’s not a big deal.”

Although she knows better, she can’t help herself. She checks Dina’s eyes, tentatively.

“Do you… want me to play something for you?”

Dina lights up like she flipped a master breaker switch. Neon lights. Instant joy. It’s so strong it’s contagious; Ellie feels a smile spread over her face, even though she’s nervous and her pulse is picking up. Her hands twitch on the glossy wood of the guitar.

“Absolutely I do.” Dina pulls her legs up and hugs her knees like a kid sitting down for a story. “Please play something.”

Ellie knows better than to play one of the newer lovestruck songs she’s working on—there’s no way to play that without giving herself away—so she presses her fingers to the opening chord of the song she played the night she realized she and Dina were never going to happen.

“ _Helplessly hoping…_ ”

\--

A week or so after the incident with the bloater, Jesse assigns himself as Ellie’s partner to run out to the ridge. They haven’t talked much since they clashed at the bonfire, and it was so alien to see Jesse angry like that, Ellie was mostly keeping her head down and avoiding him until now.

He’s quiet as they pick up the trail; the wispy clouds pass by the sun and the day starts to warm up. Ellie rolls her sleeves up, accidentally pushing her thumb through the hole in the elbow of the shirt. Every time she does that, the hole gets a little bigger, and she gets closer to needing a new shirt.

She must have cussed out loud because Jesse turns a little and says, “You okay back there?”

“Yeah. It’s nothing.”

When they get to the ridge, Jesse points her up the trail and follows behind. Ellie uses the scope to pick off runners on the hills and old ski slopes. At the third lookout point, Ellie pauses after the last runner falls.

“Jesse… the other night…” She rests the butt of the rifle against her hip.

Jesse comes up beside her, into view. He’s rolling up his sleeves, too. “Yeah, I wanted to say sorry about that. I know I kind of went off on you.”

“The whole thing was stupid,” Ellie mutters. “But I mean… like, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

He tries to catch her eye. “I did mean it, though. You’re my friend. I can’t just sit by and—”

“I know, okay? I got it already from Maria. Multiple times.” Ellie looks away, at the distant hill. “You don’t have to do the whole spiel.”

A beat later, Jesse shrugs. “Okay.”

Ellie bites the inside of her cheek and glances at him. He looks the way he always does: calm, centered, unbothered. She turns toward him. “Are we okay?”

Jesse turns his face to her and smiles crookedly. “Always.”

\--

Outside the stable, Maria is standing with Joel, Tommy, and Jesse between her and the gate. Maria waves her over.

Ellie takes her time. She notices Dina following her out of the stable.

“What’s going on?”

Tommy gives Ellie one of his easy grins and puts his hands out wide. “Family dinner!”

No.

 _Fuck_ no.

“Uh, I have plans,” Ellie says, looking from one face to another. Dina comes up beside her and loops arms with Ellie and Jesse.

“Not tonight you don’t,” says Maria, giving her a look.

Ellie sighs and cusses under her breath.

Dina grins at her and jostles her arm. “That’s the spirit.”

\--

Maria, Joel, and Tommy walk in a row in the front, while Ellie walks with Dina and Jesse, Dina linking them together in a chain.

“I can’t believe I’m still getting punished for this,” Ellie mutters. “I already apologized to all of you assholes.”

Maria turns over her shoulder. “I can hear you.”

“Okay,” Ellie says at normal volume.

“You’re so dramatic,” Dina says, poking her with an elbow.

Ellie glances down the line at the two of them. “Why did they even drag you guys into this, anyway?”

“Probably to make you more uncomfortable,” Dina says easily.

Maria turns again. “I thought you might like some people your own age to talk to.”

“Then why are you three coming?”

Maria glares. “Ellie.”

“Fine.”

\--

They cut to the side, away from downtown, toward Maria and Tommy’s house. Ellie’s only been there a couple of times. The outside looks familiar from her late-night circuits around the neighborhood, with chipping blue paint and a tall porch. Inside, Maria herds everyone into the living room and then disappears into the kitchen.

Joel and Tommy set up in the easy chairs, Tommy talking up a storm and Joel avoiding everyone else’s eyes. Jesse sits on the far side of the couch. Ellie takes the other side of it, then looks up to find Dina poking her head into the kitchen, asking Maria something, and then disappearing too.

“—So I told him, I says if you don’t want to do patrols, that’s fine, but you’re gonna have to do something,” Tommy’s saying.

Jesse sits up straighter. “What’d he say? Is he gonna join patrol?”

Ellie squeezes her hands between her thighs and glances at Joel. He’s looking at her. His eyes jump back to Tommy immediately.

Ellie looks down at her hands.

\--

Maria sticks her head out the door a little later. “Ellie, can you come help carry?”

Ellie launches off the couch and into the kitchen. Dina’s transferring a roast onto a plate while Maria finishes something on the stove.

“Here,” Maria calls, moving aside and opening the oven. She hands Ellie an oven mitt and a trivet and points to a casserole dish, cheese bubbling on the top.

Ellie pulls the dish out and follows Maria to the dining room, where someone has already set the table. Maria lays out two more trivets so Ellie can set it down.

Maria turns her head toward the living room and calls, “Boys! Dinner!”

\--

Just as she’s starting to really believe it’s just an awkward dinner, after everyone’s sitting down with a full plate and making small talk, Tommy clears his throat awkwardly and says, “Ellie…”

Ellie looks up to find everyone looking at her, then looking at the ceiling. She stops, her full fork hovering in the air.

Tommy seems to lose his nerve, now that she’s looking at him. He turns to his right and leans forward, looking at Maria and Joel.

“We’re all here because we all care about you,” Maria says.

Ellie stares.

“And we’re a little concerned”—she looks around the table until Jesse and Tommy nod—“about some of the risks you’ve been taking lately.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Joel stirs. “Now, Ellie—”

“Is this a fucking intervention?” Ellie looks at Dina and Jesse in disbelief. Jesse avoids her eyes; Dina raises her eyebrows, her face unreadable.

Ellie drops her fork and sits back. “Wow. You’re un-fucking-believable. All of you.”

Only Maria is unfazed. “I know you’ve been depressed lately, and there’s been a trend in your patrol reports that made me concerned,” she says in an unassailably reasonable tone.

“Depressed?” Ellie checks the faces around the table. Joel’s the one looking guilty. She glares at him.

“Everyone’s here because they care about you,” Maria says again. “I just thought maybe you could use a reminder. You matter to all of us.”

Ellie shakes her head and pushes her chair back, saying, “Fucked, this is so _fucked_ —”

Dina puts her hand on Ellie’s arm and she stills, instinctively. She looks at Dina, her hands still pressed to the edge of the table.

“Okay,” Dina says to everyone, “I think the point’s been made. Can we go back to the less awkward version of dinner where we just hang out, now?”

Dina looks so calm, her expression neutral, her gaze cool. It makes Ellie feel calmer too, despite herself.

“Uh, I think that’d be good,” Tommy says, scratching his face.

Dina looks at Ellie now. It saps the anger from her, cooling her like boiling water pulled off the stove. Ellie scoots her chair back in.

Dina squeezes her arm and turns back to her plate.

\--

After dinner, Ellie lingers on the porch. Jesse and Dina say goodbye together, leaving hand in hand. Maybe ten minutes later, Joel steps through the door, letting the screen door slam behind him.

“Joel.”

He must be getting soft; he flinches in surprise. “Ellie,” he says, clutching his chest.

Ellie slides her eyes away, then back to him. “Exactly what in the fuck was that?”

Joel grimaces at her, maybe guilty, maybe sad.

When he doesn’t answer, she pushes, “You told Maria I’m depressed? What the fuck do you even know about it? How do you know how I am?”

Joel tilts his head and raises his pointer finger, gearing up for a lecture. “Now, I know things ain’t the same, but I can still see—”

“No, Joel. Things aren’t the same.” Ellie glances at the house, careful to keep her voice low. “Whatever you think you _see_ about me, keep it to yourself, okay?”

Joel’s hands curl into fists at his sides—then relax. His anger fades into sadness. He looks down the porch steps at the dim street.

“Okay.”


	23. The Lake of My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What better way to spend a summer afternoon than at a lakeside by oneself?

“What are you up to tomorrow?” Ellie asks, undoing the buckles on Shimmer’s saddle.

Dina shakes her head. “I made the mistake of offering to help Jesse’s dad with something in the shop. I can’t even sleep in,” she says with a dramatic groan.

Ellie tries to smile. A whole day to herself, then. Again.

“What about you?”

Ellie shrugs. “Probably just do my usual thing?”

Dina follows her outside in step. “What’s it gonna be? Video games and mope? Paint and mope? Play guitar and mope?”

“Fuck off,” Ellie says, fighting a smile.

“Sounds like video games and mope.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

\--

Ellie packs her journal, a pistol, a book, her Walkman, and some food and water, then slings the backpack over one shoulder and the guitar over the other.

As soon as she steps outside, she can feel the heat that’ll come later. It’s cool out now, earlier than she’s usually up on a day off, with the sun low behind the wall in the east and birds calling loudly. She grips the strap over each shoulder and sets out.

\--

The hike to the lake is nice alone, in the calm stillness of early morning. At least when she’s actually by herself, the loneliness feels muted, appropriate. It’s not like feeling alone in a crowd.

The lake is quiet, empty. It’s a Tuesday, and most jobs don’t have rotating off days, so she allows herself some optimism about having the space to herself all day.

Instead of setting up by the campfire circle, she continues around to the east, strolling along the shore as it shifts from rocky to grassy. Halfway down, she comes to the rotting wooden dock, half its planks broken and fallen to time and rot, soaking in the lake water.

Carefully, testing each step before she commits, Ellie picks her way across until she reaches the far end, where the boards are mostly intact. She sets her bag down and pulls her guitar around, mindful of it as she settles down to play.

\--

The day grows gradually warmer with a kind of lazy ease. As the sun crests the top edge of the trees, Ellie feels its rays heat up her face and shoulders. She’s been working on an original song for a while, her journal open beside her to the lyrics, when she hears a twig snap, and then footsteps.

It only takes a breath to set the guitar aside, flick her switchblade open, and jump to her feet toward the noise.

It’s Dina, loping down the last downhill of the trail, ponytail flipping as she looks around.

It’s clear when she sees Ellie. Even from this distance, Ellie can see Dina’s face light up, the flash of teeth as she smiles and breaks into an easy run.

“What’re you doing here?” Ellie calls as Dina rounds the curve, her shoes crunching the pebbles underfoot.

“Came to see you, dummy!”

At the base of the dock, Dina slows down and looks at the planks, mapping a route.

“I thought you were doing that thing today,” Ellie says.

Dina takes a wide step over a gap, then hops to the far side where the wood looks stronger. “It didn’t take that long,” she says, her eyes on her feet. “I never said it would take all day.”

Dina makes a triumphant little gasp when she reaches the end by Ellie, where the wood feels sturdy and safe. She skips forward and takes Ellie’s arms, smiling at her now, the danger passed. “Why didn’t you invite me?” she says, her eyes lovely and bright, her face glowing and sun-warm.

Ellie’s fingers curl against Dina’s elbows, their forearms and palms flush against each other, overlapping. “I thought you were busy,” Ellie says, staring, trying not to stare.

“Well, I’m here now,” Dina says simply. She looks down at Ellie’s little nest: her bag, half unzipped; her journal open, the yellow pages wrinkled under the curve of the guitar. “I thought I heard you playing.”

“Uh, yeah.” Ellie stoops down and lifts the guitar so she can flip the pages closed. The lyrics are bad enough, but the opposing page has a drawing of Dina. She stuffs the journal in her bag.

“So? Keep playing.” Dina plops down on the dock beside her, sliding her arms out of the straps of her backpack and letting it fall flat behind her. She starts untying her shoes.

“Oh, maybe in a little while,” Ellie says, laying the guitar back down, gentle where the polished edge touches the chewed-up dock.

As she sits down, Dina sets her shoes aside and takes her socks off. Even her feet are pretty, her nails short with chipped purple paint, her ankle and arch smooth and soft. Dina rolls her pant legs up and dunks her feet into the water with a happy sigh.

“It’s not even that hot out,” Ellie teases. “I thought you were a hardcore badass desert snake or whatever.”

Dina snorts and punches her arm. “I’m not a snake. I’m a fucking mountain lion.” Her eyes flash. “Careful, or you’ll be dinner.”

Ellie turns her blush to the lake and forces a laugh. “Love to see you try,” she says, even though it’s a dangerous suggestion.

Dina turns to her, one eyebrow up. “Oh yeah?”

Ellie eyes her warily. In moments like this, it’s hard to hold herself back.

Dina leans closer.

Ellie hesitates, trying to read Dina’s face. She draws back, just a little.

Dina leans closer still.

It feels like they’re going to kiss.

“What’re you—”

Dina shoves her off the dock, full force.

\--

“What the _fuck_!” Ellie shakes her bangs out of her face and blinks water from her eyes.

Dina’s laughing like an asshole, so hard she’s clutching her sides.

Ellie splashes at her and swims back toward her. “You’re such a fucking dick.”

“Your face,” Dina says, wiping a tear from her eye.

Ellie lunges forward and grabs Dina by the ankles.

For one second, Dina’s eyes go wide and she says, “No—”

Then Ellie yanks hard, bracing one foot against the support post of the dock, and Dina falls half into the water. She kicks her feet and grasps at the boards of the dock, her belly flat to the edge, her tank top bunched up. Ellie grabs Dina’s waistband and pulls.

Dina drops heavily into the water beside her, a cascade in her wake that catches Ellie and part of the dock. Ellie feels hands grabbing at her and she goes under, Dina clutching at her and poking her.

When they break the surface, they’re both laughing.

“You deserved it,” Ellie says before Dina can say anything. She reaches up to the end of the dock and grips the board so she can wipe her face with her free hand.

“It was worth it.” Dina hangs from the dock, too, farther underneath than Ellie, her eyes shadowed and mischievous. The sun and the edge paint a line down the side of her face.

Ellie’s mind goes blank. For a moment, she just looks at Dina, spellbound, transfixed.

Dina stares back at her; watches her.

Finally, Ellie swallows hard, looks up, and pulls herself up onto the dock.

\--

Dina swims to shore and walks back around. Lying on her back, feeling the uncomfortable weight of her cold, soaked jeans, Ellie squints up as Dina comes to stand over her, a haloed colossus dripping water on her face.

“You really ought to be nicer to me,” Dina says.

“Or what? You’ll drip water on my face all day?” Ellie asks, wincing as a drop lands at the crease of her eyelid.

Dina maybe grins. Hard to tell in the shadow against the blinding sun. “No, stupid. Or I won’t give you the goodies I brought.”

Dina moves and squats next to her bag. Ellie pushes herself up, leaning back on her arms and watching.

Dina shakes her bag a little, turns, and sits cross-legged, giving Ellie a secretive, excited smile. “First,” she says, pausing dramatically, “a little entertainment.”

Dina pulls out—weed. Of course.

Ellie sits up fully and takes the joint Dina offers her. Dina raises an eyebrow expectantly and Ellie rolls her eyes. “Thank you,” she says, holding her hand out. “Can I have the lighter?”

Dina keeps smirking, but she pulls the lighter from the front pouch of her bag and hands it over.

As Ellie lights up and takes the first hit, Dina says, “Uh, hello? I’m not done. I said _first_.”

When Ellie looks over, Dina has her hand buried in the bag again, ready for a second dramatic reveal.

Confident she has Ellie’s attention, Dina says, “Okay, so let me just say it’s hard to top what I gave you last year, but I still wanted to give you something.”

As she says it, she pulls out a cassette tape and holds it out. The plastic of the tape is a translucent bright green; the ink on the handwritten label is smudged, illegible.

“Happy birthday.”

Ellie grins. “Dina! I fucking love new tapes.”

“Duh. I know.” Dina grins back, eyes sparkling. She sets her bag aside and settles more comfortably, her hands on the dock behind her, her body stretched into smooth, lean lines under her wet top.

Ellie looks back at the cassette tape and holds the joint out to Dina. When Dina takes it, Ellie turns the tape in her hands, marveling at it.

“I figured you could use some happier songs to play,” Dina says, teasing.

Ellie snorts. “Fuck you.”

“You’re just such a downer at bonfires now. So many angsty teenage feelings going on.”

“Fuck off. I rock the brooding thing,” Ellie says, summoning a little bravado.

Dina passes back and considers her, holding the smoke in and then slowly blowing it out her nose. “Yeah, I guess you do,” she admits, like she never thought about it that way before.

The look, the scrutiny, makes Ellie blush. She turns away to get her Walkman out of her bag, careful not to knock the guitar into the lake.

“Have you listened to it?” she asks Dina, popping the tape in and untangling the headphones.

“Of course. What if it was _more_ depressing than what you already play?”

Ellie snorts. “Not sure that’s possible,” she mutters darkly, taking another hit.

There’s a pause: Around them, they hear the lake caress the shore; the wind rustles the trees.

Ellie passes back. “You wanna listen with me?”

Dina smiles and nods. Ellie hands her one of the earbuds.

\--

They listen to the whole tape, until it goes quiet. Ellie can hear the scratch of unused tape in her ear. She imagines reels turning in her head too, pulling an empty tape across the reader, looking for music that isn’t there.

Eventually, Dina props up on her elbow. She was laying up against Ellie, so now she hovers over her, her damp bangs fallen loose from her ponytail.

Ellie looks up at her, a shipwrecked sailor rescued, a mermaid washed up on a beach. Dina’s face is so close.

“So?” Dina asks.

Ellie blinks. Dina looks at her expectantly, like Ellie should know what that means. Then Ellie remembers the tape was a gift. “I really like it. Thanks, Dina.”

Dina smiles so hard her nose wrinkles. “No, doofus. So, are you gonna play any of these for me sometime?”

Ellie squints at her. There was one on the tape she really liked. It reminded her of Dina.

“I have to, like, figure out how to play them,” she says. “And then get good enough to play them in front of you.”

Dina peers at her. Her expression is strange. Her face is so close, eclipsing the blue sky, the sun.

“We have plenty of time.”

It feels like they’re going to kiss.

Ellie tucks her lips into her mouth and glances to the side. She tugs both earbuds out and turns, putting her shoulder between them, winding the cord around the Walkman. “Who says I take requests?” she says, trying to tease.

Dina sits up and scoffs quietly. “You always take mine,” she says, confident, knowing.

Ellie tucks the Walkman back in her bag. Quietly, more to herself than Dina, she admits, “That’s true.”

\--

Ellie sits looking out at the lake, finishing her last bite of jerky. From below and a little behind, lying beside her, Dina says, “Will you play something now?”

Ellie looks down. Dina reaches over her head to put the rest of her trail mix in her backpack. She looks up at Ellie, her eyes open and soft. Her skin glistens with sweat at her hairline and the hollow of her collarbone.

Ellie swallows. “What do you want me to play? I don’t really know anything… y'know.” She doesn’t know any songs for a beautiful day, for a sunny afternoon alone at a lake with a beautiful girl.

Dina links her hands behind her head, her elbows up, her arms curved with muscle. “Play whatever you want,” she says, simply.

Slowly, stalling, Ellie drags the guitar into her lap. It feels too heavy at first, then too light, as she positions it on her leg.

She’s not sure why—maybe because, of all her songs, it’s one of the more optimistic; maybe because the melody is more upbeat; maybe because the chorus does apply here, in a way—but she starts to play “Future Days,” even though it usually reminds her of Joel.

Even though she doesn’t play it much, anymore, because of Joel.

“ _If I ever were to lose you…_ ”

\--

The last notes seem to linger over them, hovering over the water. Dina’s eyes have closed; she lies still, relaxed, a mountain lion in the sun.

Slowly, in no hurry, Ellie sets the guitar aside and takes out her canteen. The water’s still a little cold, shielded from the sun by her bag and its cloth case. She can feel the water travel down her throat, like an icy finger dragged down her skin to her stomach.

Dina props up when Ellie offers her the canteen. She drinks, then wipes her mouth and asks, “Ellie, are you happy?”

Ellie takes the canteen back and takes her time putting the cap back on. “Like… right now?”

“Yeah,” Dina says. “Sure.”

Ellie looks at her, at her face, open and earnest, her deep, dark eyes, the freckles smattered across her nose.

“Yeah,” she says, hoarse. She looks down, then forces herself to look back up. “Yeah, I am happy. Like, right now.”

Dina nods and looks down at her hands. She fiddles with the bracelet on her wrist, sliding her finger along between the leather and her skin. “I would’ve gone with you, you know,” she says.

Ellie waits for context. When it doesn’t come, she asks, “With me where?”

“Wherever you went, two years ago.” Dina glances at her, then looks down again, uncharacteristically shy. “I mean, I know we were like… I know why you didn’t tell me. I get it. But I would’ve gone anyway, if you asked me.”

Oh.

Salt Lake City.

“Oh, no, Dina, I…” Ellie looks at the canteen; looks out at the water; looks down at her hands. “It was… It was something I had to do on my own.”

“I get it,” Dina says, shrugging one shoulder. Maybe she does. “I’m just saying. Sometimes I think… It feels like you think you’re way out there on your own, you know?”

When Ellie looks up, Dina’s looking right at her. Her eyes are focused, almost fierce. Determined.

“And you’re not,” she says. “I mean, I can’t speak for, like, anyone else, but I’m your friend, okay? I’m here for you. Or there for you. Wherever you’re going.”

Ellie swallows.

This gift feels like too much. It feels too big. It’s hard to take in.

“Dina…”

Dina shakes her head and looks away again, down at her hands. She touches the silver pendant on the bracelet. “You don’t have to, like, say anything,” she says. “I don’t know. I just felt like you needed to hear it.”

Ellie nods, struck dumb. The canteen is sitting forgotten in her lap. Her hands are curled into fists, the nails biting her palms.

\--

She doesn’t deserve this.

What would Dina say if she knew? If she knew all these good turns were feeding— _this_ , these feelings she would never return, feelings she should never have to bear?

\--

“Yeah,” Ellie manages, her voice tight. “Thanks.”

Maybe Dina senses her discomfort, because she sits up and skims her hands over her thighs and changes the subject. “My jeans are never gonna dry,” she says lightly. “See, the desert would never let me down like this. Everything would’ve been dry an hour ago.”

Ellie twists the cap off and takes another drink, just to busy her hands. “Do you miss it, ever?”

Dina shrugs. “Kind of hard to miss a place that fucked you over so bad. But I guess I do sometimes. I have good memories there, too.”

“That makes sense.” Ellie looks out at the lake and tries to think of any place she’s been that she misses. Coming up empty, she says, “I can’t imagine living somewhere with no water.”

Dina leans back on her hands. “I mean, there’s not _no_ water, or everybody would die of dehydration.”

“I know _that_.” Ellie snaps her foot out to kick Dina’s leg. “I meant like, lakes and rivers and stuff. Joel and I went through this really dry spot on the way west and it just really sucked.”

“You’re probably both just big babies,” Dina says, smiling at her. “Can’t take a little heat.”

Ellie smirks and puts both feet against Dina’s leg, her knees up and ready to push. “Careful, or you’re going back in the lake.”

“If I do, you’re coming with me.” Dina’s eyes flash; she grabs Ellie’s ankle, her grip firm.

Ellie pretends to consider for a second, then tackles Dina off the dock and into the water.

\--

The high is wearing off by the time the sun starts moving the other way, over to the west. After hours under its rays, Ellie’s skin is tacky with dry and drying sweat. Her jeans cling to her legs, wet and scratchy.

“All right,” Dina announces, standing up.

“You want to head back?” Ellie snaps her journal shut on another drawing of Dina.

“No, stupid,” Dina says, laughing.

And then she starts undoing her jeans.

Ellie blinks, eyes wide, then looks away at the lake.

“It’s too hot to just sit here,” Dina’s saying, peeling her jeans down and stepping out of them. As soon as they’re off, she takes two steps and leaps off the dock, tucking into a loose cannonball and whooping.

Ellie holds her journal behind her and an arm over her eyes as water splashes up in a wide circle. When Dina comes up for air, she lets out an exaggerated happy sigh. “Much better,” she says.

“I thought it wasn’t even that hot here,” Ellie teases. “We’re all babies, you’re the desert queen, blah, blah.”

“That just means I’m more appreciative of a nice cool lake,” Dina says, smirking at her. She splashes at Ellie’s leg where her foot dangles in the water—and then starts swimming up toward it.

“Dina, no,” Ellie says, scooting back to pull her foot out of reach. She shoves her journal back from the splash zone.

“Come on! Swim with me.” Dina treads water and pouts up at her. “Please?”

Ellie bites her lip. “My jeans are finally almost dry,” she tries, even though she knows better.

“So take them off.” Dina looks at her with a _you’re a doofus_ smile.

And, okay, she walked into that one, but doing that feels like a terrible idea.

Then again, there’s not a great way to back out without being conspicuous.

Ellie stands reluctantly and shucks her jeans off as fast as she can, then hops into the water before Dina can make some smartass comment.

She comes up next to Dina, wiping water from her face. “You know other people come to this lake,” Ellie says. “Like, people we know.”

A smile tugs at Dina’s lips. “You are so ridiculous,” she says, and she reaches up and dunks Ellie hard under the surface.

Underwater, Ellie pokes and grabs at her, trying to break her focus. When that doesn’t work, she pulls her feet up and kicks off of Dina, coming up a few feet away. “You’re the worst,” she says, spitting the taste of lake out of her mouth.

Dina comes closer, smirking. “You love it.”

Dina comes closer still. Her arms sweep close as she treads water. A few inches closer and they’d be touching, her fingers caught in Ellie’s shirt.

Ellie takes a deep breath and goes under.

\--

Later, as the sun approaches the western tree line and they hear the distant hoofbeats of horses heading back from patrol, they climb back out of the water, shivering in the breeze. Ellie keeps her eyes away from Dina, turning her back as she pulls her dry jeans forcibly over her wet skin.

“Fuck me,” Ellie mutters, struggling to pull the fabric over her knees.

“Yeah, should’ve brought a towel,” Dina says, presumably struggling herself.

“Would’ve, but I wasn’t planning on swimming. That was your idea.”

“Fuck you. You had fun.”

Ellie hears the jingle of zipper pulls and turns around. Dina has both their backpacks on her back; she nods at the guitar.

“It’s okay,” Ellie starts, reaching toward her for the bag, but Dina steps out of range.

Ellie looks at her, face pinched. “I can carry it.”

Dina gives her a wily grin. “Only if you can take it from me.” She clutches the strap tighter and darts away, skipping gracefully over the weak planks to the shore.

Ellie settles the guitar strap across her chest and sighs. The guitar seems to echo it, sighing too, breathing with her.

Dina waits for her, and then they walk together along the shore. When they reach the trail head, Ellie twists her fingers together and says, “Thanks for coming today.”

Dina pauses and smiles at her. “Of course. I mean, it was a lot of work. I had to check all the places I thought you’d be, like your house, or your house. Then I had to schlep all the way out here…”

Ellie snorts and elbows her. “Fuck you. I’m saying thank you.”

“Fine. You’re welcome, nerd.”

\--

In bed that night, watching the moonlit gloom through her curtains, Ellie tries again to imagine something different. She summons up that moment, hanging from the edge of the dock, their eyes locked together, the lake quiet and still around them.

This time, in her mind, she pulls herself against the drag of the water until she’s right in front of Dina, right in her space, right up close. She puts her free hand on Dina’s shoulder, against the strong column of her neck. She leans in.

But again, like always, as she closes the gap, Dina turns away.

 _It’s not like that_ , she says again, a refrain, a memory, an inevitability. _I’m sorry, Ellie, I don’t like you like that_.

Dina’s hand releases, and Dina disappears beneath the surface of the lake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The green cassette tape was recorded in the fall of '85, if that tells you anything.


	24. Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on some comments I got on this chapter, I want to gently remind y'all that the enemy in this story is Ellie's insecurities, more than the actions of any other character.

They barely get going on the trail before Jesse slows down to ride beside her.

“Today’s six months,” he says, quiet but clearly excited, like he’s afraid to jinx it.

Ellie frowns. “Six months of…?”

“Since our last break. Me and Dina. We’re really doing it.” He grins at her, his eyes gleaming with joy and a little disbelief. “I think it’s really working this time.”

“Right, duh.” Ellie gives him a small but genuine smile. “Happy for you, dude.”

And it’s true. They’re her friends. She’s happy for them.

Plus, it’s made it easier to hold herself back, to keep her distance, this year. There’s less temptation; less hope. It’s safer.

Super fucking happy for them.

“I feel like I should do something special tonight,” Jesse says, fidgeting with the reins. He’s not usually a fidgeter.

“Right, that’s a thing, huh?”

Jesse shrugs. “Beats me. We never made it to six months before.”

Ellie leans back as the horses cut onto a downward slope. “I mean, technically you guys have been together, like, the whole time. A break isn’t breaking up.”

“I guess,” Jesse says, thinking. “Doesn’t feel that way, though.”

Ellie purses her lips. “Yeah,” she allows, “maybe.”

“Maybe we’ll just go to the diner,” Jesse says, still focused on his mission.

The diner’s not very romantic. Not very special or extraordinary, either. Ellie would probably hike out to the lake, or to the outcropping to stargaze.

To Jesse, she says, “Safe bet. Not like there’s much else to do. The diner’s as five-star as it gets these days.”

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe we’ll do that. And then the bonfire. She’ll love that.” Jesse turns to her. “You coming tonight?”

Fuck. Right.

“Yep,” Ellie says, trying not to sigh like it’s a prison sentence or something. “Every Friday.”

Jesse grins. “Sweet.”

\--

By the time Jesse and Dina turn up at the bonfire, it’s clear they broke their six-month streak.

Dina storms in way ahead of Jesse, not waiting for him or even looking back for him. She makes a beeline for the alcohol and pours way more generously than usual, then starts her on-a-break routine of saying hi to everybody there, right up close and personal, touching an arm or a shoulder or a hand.

Jesse gets himself a drink and drops heavily next to Ellie.

“Hey,” Ellie says, glancing between them.

“Hey,” Jesse says. He takes a moody sip from his cup.

“So…” Ellie scratches her ear. “Diner didn’t go over so well?”

Jesse sighs and shakes his head. His sigh coalesces in the cold air. “I don’t even know, man. I think we’re done.”

Ellie freezes for a second.

Done?

“I thought it’d be nice to be, like, serious for a second, and like, talk about the future and stuff, but I guess not.” Jesse shakes his head again.

Ellie locks her hands together around her cup. “I’m sure it’ll work out,” she says.

Jesse looks at her morosely.

“I mean, you guys did this a hundred times already,” Ellie reminds him—and herself—as gently as she can. “You two are like… magnets, or something. You always come back to each other.”

Jesse turns to look at Dina across the fire, where she talks and pointedly flirts with Andre. Dina doesn’t even bother to check if Jesse’s looking. She knows he is.

“I don’t know, man,” Jesse says. He takes a long drink and leans on his knees. “I think we might be done.”

\--

Could this be real? Jesse and Dina, done?

It feels impossible.

\--

Once Dina’s made her rounds, as usual, she catches Ellie staring, as usual, and flounces over to her. As usual.

“Hey, Ellie,” she says, and the way she looks right in Ellie’s eyes as she says it makes Ellie shiver.

“Hey, Dina.” Ellie leans back a little, instinctively, her body sensing danger.

Next to Ellie, Jesse says, “Dina—”

“Jesse,” Dina says, like she always does. She sits down on Ellie’s leg, right in her lap, her back toward Jesse.

Ellie’s whole nervous system lights up like a Christmas tree. It feels like getting ice water dunked on her. She can feel every inch of her skin, every shift of fabric, and every infinitesimal movement where Dina sits against her.

Dina wraps her arm around Ellie’s shoulders and knocks back the rest of her drink. “What’re you up to over here?” Dina asks.

Ellie eyes her warily. She sets her free hand on the log and angles back. “You know, bonfire stuff,” she says, studiously ignoring her body’s full-force response. “Sitting. Drinking. Being cold.”

Dina smirks. “Thank God you’ve got me here to warm you up.”

“Eh, I was doing good with the whiskey.”

Dina laughs. She goes to take a sip, then realizes her cup is empty.

“Here.” Ellie holds her drink up, still half-full.

Dina grins. “So chivalrous,” she teases, and then instead of taking the cup, she wraps her warm hand around Ellie’s and brings cup and hand together up to her lips.

At least it’s cold out, so Ellie’s cheeks are already red.

“I wasn’t offering you all of it,” Ellie says when Dina drains it all and releases her hand.

“Tough shit,” Dina says, stacking her cup in Ellie’s.

Ellie tilts the cups against her knee, watching the two remaining drops slide around opposite sides and meet at the bottom. “Friendly thing to do would be to get us both refills,” she says, her eyes on her hand.

Dina snorts. “Fine, lazy.” She takes the cups and gets up to go fill them.

Ellie lets out a slow, shaky exhale through her teeth.

It doesn’t feel any different, tonight. It feels like any night Dina and Jesse are on a break.

Are they really done?

\--

“Why didn’t you bring it?” Dina whines, grabbing Ellie’s jacket and pulling her back and forth, hard enough to spill some of her drink.

Ellie holds her hands up, defensive. “I don’t have to bring it every time! I’m not your personal, like, one-woman band.”

“You do _too_ have to bring it every time,” Dina says with a glare. “That way once you’re drunk, I can talk you into playing.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie says, laughing despite herself, “I’m not even that drunk.”

“Well drink the fucking whiskey I went all the way over there to get you, and then we’ll see.”

“I still don’t have my guitar, genius.”

“‘Genius’ is a compliment. Thanks for the compliment.”

“Here’s a compliment for you.”

“Ha! Fuck you too, Ellie.”

“You wish.”

\--

Ellie knows, deep down, Dina isn’t done with Jesse. They’re never done for real. It’s just another break, and in a week or two, they’ll be back together.

Still, something about it bugs her. Something about the way Jesse said it at the bonfire. It sounded so final.

So, all week, while Ellie acts normal and watches them for signs of reconciliation, while she tells herself over and over that they aren’t really done, that germ of stubborn, merciless hope starts to grow.

\--

On Thursday, day six of Dina and Jesse maybe being done, Ellie admits to herself that she’s been practicing the same song all week because she intends to play it for Dina at the bonfire.

Admitting it means she also has to acknowledge that it’s a bad idea. That she knows what will happen, regardless of whether Dina and Jesse are done.

She’s seen it so many times that it feels undeniable, unquestionable. It’s a vision; it’s a memory.

_It’s not like that. I don’t like you like that. I’m sorry, Ellie._

But she practices anyway.

\--

The whole day on patrol, Ellie moves faster, hits harder, scouts farther ahead. Eventually, after they clear the floor, Astrid says, “Somebody put wasps in your britches today?”

“Just got a lot of energy,” Ellie says. She pockets her knife and notices her hand is shaking.

Astrid grunts disapprovingly.

Just a few more hours.

\--

Andre looks at Ellie like he’s looking at a ghost.

“Ellie?”

Ellie checks behind her as she closes the gate. “Yeah. That okay?”

Andre shakes his head, stunned. He’s the only one in the pit, still constructing the wood skeleton of the bonfire. It’s barely dinnertime; the sun’s still out, high enough to glimpse against the top of the wall. The booze hasn’t even shown up yet.

“Sure,” he says with a shrug. “You, uh, came to help?”

Ellie shrugs back. “Sure.”

\--

Coming early was a mistake. It’s just her and Andre for a long time—which is bad enough, since they don’t have much to say to each other—but, worse, it gives her time to contemplate her plan.

Is she really going to sing something for Dina?

 _To_ Dina?

In front of everyone?

But, for all her stern lectures to herself in the bathroom mirror, there is a part of her that needs to know for sure. A part that needs to try.

\--

The first few people to show don’t pay Ellie much attention, since they’re barely acquaintances, let alone friends. Even after coming every week for the better part of a year, Ellie only comes because Dina comes, and Dina and Jesse are really the only people she talks to.

Ellie starts drinking as soon as Jesse shows up with the goods. From her spot opposite the gate, she can see everyone as they approach. At dusk, she’s surprised by Cat coming down the path.

Cat doesn’t see her immediately; she takes a detour to get a drink, and talks for a bit with some of the people Ellie doesn’t know that well. Then, Cat makes eye contact, and this time Cat’s the one who freezes.

They haven’t spoken since that night last fall. Tonight, full of energy and more than a little whiskey, Ellie lifts a hand in greeting and gives Cat a smile.

Cautiously, Cat makes her way over. She stops in front of Ellie, hovering.

“Hey, Cat,” Ellie says. “Long time no see.”

Cat smiles tentatively. “Yeah.”

Ellie looks at her for a moment. Cat holds her gaze, even though she seems nervous.

Ellie leans back a little. “Are we okay?”

Someone brushes by between Cat and the fire, and Cat moves forward, then steps back out of Ellie’s space. “I don’t know,” she says, shy. “Are we?”

Ellie bites her lip. “I want to be.”

Cat considers her thoughtfully. Then, her face clears and she nods. “Okay, then.”

Ellie smiles a little and lifts her cup. “Friends?”

Cat nods again and taps their cups together. “Friends.”

\--

When Dina turns up, it almost seems weird that she does her usual routine, greeting everybody and laughing and joking around and throwing her drink on Jesse to be a dick because she can get away with it. It seems like Dina should intuit Ellie’s plan, should sense it somehow, the way she always knows when to catch Ellie staring at her.

But, she doesn’t, of course.

Ellie just waits. For once, she doesn’t feel that fear, that dread, of Dina coming over to break down her resolve. Tonight, she expects it; welcomes it.

Saying something to Candice, Dina glances at Ellie and notices the guitar leaning against the log, apparently for the first time. She cuts herself off and jabs an accusatory finger at Ellie.

“Ellie!” she says. She bounds over and drops to a crouch in front of Ellie, her eyes both bright and dark at once. “You’re gonna play?” she asks.

Ellie bites down on a smile. “Uh huh.”

Dina does a huge, overblown fist pump, blows an air kiss to the sky, and sits down against Andre’s leg so she’s facing Ellie in a front row seat.

Usually, Dina yells at the group to shut up and listen when Ellie plays, but tonight she doesn’t, for some reason. She’s so close, so attentive, that it actually does almost feel like Ellie’s playing just to her, alone in her room.

Ellie breathes deep, her heart pounding, and trades her glass for her guitar. It’s hard to say if people quiet down or if Ellie just stops hearing them.

She presses her fingers to the frets.

“ _Talking away…_ ”

\--

All day, all week, she swore to herself she’d look Dina right in the eyes as she sang, but she can’t. She looks only at her hands, at the strings and curves of her hollow wooden shield, the only thing between them.

\--

When she finishes the song, she feels the magic start to fade, and then her eyes go right to Dina. It’s like Dina’s the only one there.

This time, Dina’s already looking at her. Her eyes are soft and dangerous, flickering in the firelight. Her expression is strange.

“New song!” says Jesse, and the world breaks back in. “Nice!”

Ellie looks at Dina again and their eyes lock. Dina’s gaze is so intense and so deep it feels almost physical.

Hands shaking, Ellie sets the guitar aside, grabs her drink, and stumbles up and toward the stash on the wood pile.

\--

All the courage and confidence is just a memory, now. Now, there’s just the reality, and the risk.

What is she really expecting to happen?

She’s been over this so many times in her mind.

The answer is always the same.

\--

“That was so good,” Dina says right in her ear, coming up behind her, one hand on her back.

At her touch, Ellie lets out a sudden, ragged gasp.

“That was the song from my tape,” Dina says.

Ellie stares at her hands, pale against the wood. Dina’s standing so close. She can’t face her.

“Yeah,” she says, a little delayed. “Well, I promised I’d play you one.”

At least all this practice is paying off. Despite everything, she can still sound normal.

“Ellie.” Dina grips her arm.

Ellie turns.

Dina’s face is so close. As close as it is in her dreams, her nightmares. Just inches away. Her eyes are deep and dark, suffocating, paralyzing.

 _It’s not like that_ , something whispers. _It’s not like that_.

Dina’s smile dims.

Ellie turns away before Dina can.

\--

The next morning at roundup, Maria gathers the pairs up and brings the group patrol over, too. Ellie shares a nervous glance with Dina as Japan walks up beside Shimmer.

“I have some news for everyone,” Maria says. “There’s no good way to say it. Eugene died last night of a stroke.”

Dina gasps and lifts a hand to her mouth.

“Obviously, this is upsetting for all of us,” Maria continues. “He was a valuable member of our community. Patrol is still on for today, but if you need some time, please find me when you get back and I’ll do my best to work it out.”

“Dina,” Ellie says quietly, reaching out toward her.

Dina shuts her eyes, shakes her head, and composes herself.

“Dina,” Maria finishes, pointing at her, “you’re with Jesse today instead.”

\--

At the top of the water tower, Astrid pauses, slings her rifle over her shoulder, and leans on the railing. Ellie waits a moment, then comes up beside her.

Astrid considers the landscape for a moment. The red leaves of fall look dull and dark under the overcast sky. A couple of birds form black spots on the horizon.

“Damn shame about Eugene,” Astrid says. Her face is pained.

Ellie nods and lets out a breath. “Yeah.”

They stay at the railing a while. Finally, Astrid pulls away and turns back to the wooden stool. “Time to bring that logbook in.”

\--

Inside the gate, Ellie slides off Shimmer and stops, frozen.

Dina and Jesse are standing by the stable, holding hands.

Of course.

\--

She’s so fucking stupid.

Why did she think they were done?

What the fuck does Jesse know about being done?

\--

“Hey,” Ellie says as she walks up.

Dina and Jesse both look at her. Jesse says, “Hey.”

Ellie reaches out for Dina’s arm, then drops her hand halfway there. “Sorry about Eugene.”

Dina nods, her eyes a little vacant. “Yeah. He, um… It sucks.”

For a moment, all three of them are quiet. Ellie notices Jesse running his thumb back and forth on Dina’s hand.

Jesse clears his throat. “We, uh—I was just gonna take her home and make some dinner, I think.”

It’s obvious no invitation is coming. Ellie scratches her neck. “Yeah. I’ll, uh… see you guys later.”

She backs up a few steps, then turns and walks back to Shimmer, waiting by the gate. When she looks over her shoulder, Dina and Jesse are walking away, hand in hand.

\--

At home, Ellie worries.

She paces for a while; tries to play a video game, but can’t focus; tries to play guitar, but focuses too hard. She ends up at her desk with her journal, but instead of writing, she draws Dina again. Flipping back, every few pages, there’s Dina, or swarms of moths.

This time, she draws Dina that day at the lake, sheltered by the edge of the dock, half in sunlight, half in shadow. It’s hard to capture. Ellie can remember her arm, the soft curve of muscle, but on the page it looks too thin or too thick, every time.

She practices the eyes over and over in the margins. They’re hard, too.

It’s weird, that Eugene died. He was so old when they met, he felt like one of those people who get too old to die, like he’d been old forever and he’d be old long after Ellie was gone.

He and Dina were partners for so long.

Dina has Jesse for comfort, though. It’s probably better that way.

Ellie stares at Dina’s eyes on the page.

_I’m sorry._

\--

Ellie’s steps get slower as she gets closer to Dina’s little apartment. It’s dark out, cold, and the moon already hangs overhead, bright and close. In the moonlight, the streets and houses are colorless.

Ellie knocks on the door.

Inside, Dina calls, “One second!”

She hears a whisper. A deep voice. Rustling.

Jesse.

She runs.

\--

She’s so fucking stupid.

Dina and Jesse are back together. Why would Dina be alone? What did she fucking expect?

How long can she keep doing this?

Her shoes slap the pavement. The streets are empty of people, but curled dry leaves scuttle across the paths in search of dark corners.

Inside, the void cracks open, wide and hungry, cold and empty.

\--

Instead of going home, Ellie runs a circuit around town. She runs it twice. Three times.

Part of her wants to go to Cat’s house. Just to talk. Cat’s so good at talking. Maybe Cat could help her make sense of everything.

But things with Cat are still complicated. Still tentative. And when Ellie thinks about trying to tell Cat what’s wrong—trying to tell Cat about _Dina_ —it feels not just impossible, but repulsive, terrifying.

There’s no one else, though.

No one else to tell. No one else to see.

Dina. Jesse. Cat.

Joel.

None of them. Just Ellie, alone in the town, in the world, in the universe. An astronaut, no company but the stars and the vast oblivion of space, no comfort but the beautiful view of a world she can’t reach.

\--

As she runs, the emptiness, the gaping void, the deep, hungry loneliness chases her, hot on her heels, dark and close in the whitewash of moonlight.

She feels a scream coiling up inside her, filling her lungs with panic.

 _I’m sorry, Ellie_.

_I know you wish things were different._

\--

Ellie finds herself on the bottom stair of Joel’s porch. She looks down, confused, at her shoe on the stair and her hand on the railing.

She and Joel never did this, with each other. They never told each other things. Ellie never sought his counsel or comfort. She never even told him about Cat, before everything. She chickened out every time.

She’s not here from muscle memory. It’s more like reenacting a dream, hoping it will come to life.

Once upon a time, Ellie wanted this from Joel: support, advice. Love.

Her fingers clench tight against the railing. She shoves herself back, steps back, violently.

Once, she was that fucking stupid.

What a fucking joke.

\--

Ellie buries her face in a pillow and screams. She screams until her throat hurts, until her voice scratches, until her lungs hurt and her mouth gets that stale peppermint taste.

She turns over and pulls the blankets up over her head, blotting out the ice-cold air and the bright moonlit room.

Hurried this time, she brings Dina to her mind, so fast Dina even looks surprised.

Ellie imagines leaning in, taking Dina’s face in her hands so she won’t turn away.

This time, Ellie presses their mouths together. Dina touches Ellie’s wrists, encircling them lightly. Her lips are sweet.

Ellie moves back and searches Dina’s face. For a moment, Dina’s expression is neutral, flat.

Then, slowly, Dina starts to smile. It spreads wide, wider—too wide. Dina starts to snicker. She laughs deeper, louder, a slow crescendo to a full-belly laugh, bent double, cackling.

Dina looks up at her, her expression foreign: smug, cruel.

 _You should have seen your face_ , she spits. _You’re so fucking stupid._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Whiskeytango86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskeytango86/) for making sure that last scene hurt.


	25. Orbital Decay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A satellite falling to Earth.

Ellie warms her hands with her breath and considers her work. Her obsession has actually made her really pretty good at drawing Dina. Dina’s face looks back from the page in her open journal, the eyes and hair almost right, the nose getting closer. There’s a smudge where Ellie had to erase part of the ear with a shitty eraser, but it’s not like any drawing could come close to the real thing, anyway.

A door closes. Ellie flips the journal shut and drops it in her bag, then hops off the ski lift.

“What’re you drawing?” asks Dina.

“The view.” Ellie looks aside and shoulders her bag.

“Hmm. Looks like trouble down the way,” Dina says, pointing over the curve of the hill.

Ellie nods and puts her gloves back on. “Let’s go.”

\--

They creep down the hill and duck behind a crop of tall bushes.

“Quiet or fast?” Ellie asks under her breath. “I see four.”

“Two quiet, two fast?” Dina draws her knife.

They take out the nearer pair of runners almost perfectly in sync. Ellie stuns the third runner with a bottle and rushes it. As it struggles against her arm, blood gushing from its neck, she looks over in time to see Dina drop the fourth runner with a bullet to the head.

Ellie drops the body, then wipes her knife, folds it, and pockets it in one motion.

“Not bad,” Dina says.

Ellie grins at her. “Nice shot.”

Dina smirks back. “Thanks.”

\--

Later, at the lookout, Ellie comes back inside from taking a leak to find Dina looking at her strangely.

Ellie hesitates, then slides the door shut. “What?”

Dina shakes her head and looks down at Ellie’s bag, left lying on the counter beside her. “Nothing.”

Ellie surreptitiously checks her fly. That’s not it. “You’re acting weird all of a sudden.”

Dina looks up and peers at her. Ellie can almost hear her thinking, see the gears turning. It makes her nervous. She approaches with caution.

Dina says, “I was trying to remember a joke I was gonna tell you.” She smiles at her and the tension dissipates.

Ellie comes to a stop in front of Dina, hands in her coat pockets. “Did you remember it?”

Dina’s smile becomes a grin. She kicks her feet against the counter. “Yeah. You ready?”

Ellie can’t help but smile back. “Oh, is it that good? Should I sit down?”

“Yeah,” Dina says, “maybe you should.”

Ellie drags a chair over and straddles it, folding her arms on the backrest and leaning on them. “Okay, I’m sitting. I’m ready.”

“You ready?”

“So ready. Lay it on me.”

“What does a clock do when it’s hungry?”

Ellie feels her smile falter a little. Is that Joel’s old joke? It was something about a clock. The thought of Joel tugs at her, an absent, nagging ache.

“I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “What?”

Dina grins. “It goes back for seconds.”

Ellie snorts. “That’s not bad.”

“Aren’t you glad you’re sitting down?”

“So glad. I would’ve just fallen right over.”

“I bet you would’ve.”

\--

Riding back up to the gate, Dina slows Japan down so Ellie catches up beside her.

“I think I’m gonna break it off with Jesse,” Dina says, out of nowhere.

It’s the first time Dina’s ever mentioned it to Ellie like this. Certainly the first time she said it before it happened. Their breaks don’t usually feel premeditated.

“Oh yeah?” Ellie asks, careful to allow no hope, no optimism.

She feels Dina looking at her, so she turns her head away, scratching her ear and looking at the snow weighing down the boughs of the tree beside them.

“Yeah,” Dina says, thoughtful. “I think I am.”

Ellie chances a look. Dina’s looking forward now, at the gate. Her face is clear and untroubled.

Ellie shifts in the saddle and turns toward the path. Jesse and Dina have taken a thousand breaks, and they’ll take a thousand more, before they’re done with each other.

Some things are fucking inevitable.

\--

Late, well after dinner and well after dark, Ellie’s in full wallow mode when there’s a knock on the door.

She flips her journal shut and tosses it off the far side of the bed out of view. “Come in,” she calls, settling her hand back on the frets.

Dina slips inside and shuts the door behind her. “Hey,” she says, her cheeks rosy from the cold. She looks around a second, then steps toward the woodfire stove, holding her hands out appreciatively to the heat. “Fucking cold as balls out there.”

Gross. Ellie snorts. “If you say so,” she says, plucking a few strings at random.

Dina turns to her and pulls coat off. “I talked to Jesse,” she says.

Ellie frowns. Why is Dina so interested in talking about Jesse, now? They never really talk about him. Ellie kind of prefers it that way.

When Ellie doesn’t answer, Dina tosses her coat on the couch and hovers for a second before sitting down herself. “What’re you up to?” Dina asks. She feels far away.

Ellie strums pointedly. “Tap dancing.”

Dina smirks and lifts her eyebrows. “Tap dancing, huh?”

“Yeah.” Ellie drums her fingers on the body of the guitar to mimic tap shoes. “Thought I needed a new hobby.”

“Ha.” Dina makes that squint that means she’s trying not to laugh. “And _you_ picked dancing? Brave.”

“That’s me.” Ellie flicks the guitar and the sound reverberates. “Brave ass motherfucker.”

Dina snorts. “Okay, tough guy.” She pulls her boots off and puts her feet up on the coffee table. “You gonna play me something or keep up the tap dancing cover story?”

Ellie rubs her thumb nervously. “What do you want me to play?”

Dina scoots down and puts her hands behind her head. “Play my song,” she says. “The one from the tape I gave you.”

Ellie’s throat goes dry. Dina has a song, now?

Well. It was Dina’s song already. But now Dina knows it.

Ellie’s not sure what to say to that, so she just sets up and starts to play. She has to play the intro three times before her voice comes out.

\--

At the bonfire, Ellie shows up and is immediately surprised to find Dina sitting in her own spot on a log, talking pretty normally with Andre, making no physical contact with anything but her seat and her drink.

As Ellie walks through the gate, Dina catches her eye immediately, almost like she was waiting for her. Dina smiles and points at the empty seat beside her.

Ellie nods at her and makes a detour to pour a drink. Half a drink.

“Hey,” Dina says as Ellie sits beside her. Her voice is soft; her face is soft, too, soaked in firelight, warm in the cold winter air. Her eyes are like coals, dark and potent.

“Hey.” Ellie reaches behind them and twists her cup into the snow to make a little refrigerated nest.

When she turns back, leaning her elbows on her knees, Dina puts a hand on her arm immediately. “Ellie,” Dina starts, looking right at her.

“What?” Ellie asks, as neutrally as she can. She can almost feel the heat of Dina’s hand, through Dina’s glove and her coat and her sleeve.

“Are you going to the dance tomorrow?”

Ellie stares at the fire. She lifts her hand to rub her eye; Dina drops from her arm.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Ellie says, the words tumbling out in a big sigh. “Um, probably not.”

Even without looking, it’s like she can feel Dina start to smile. “You say that every year.”

Ellie snorts. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“Yet you go every year.”

Ellie glances over. Dina’s smirking at her.

“Maybe,” she says, “but every year, the odds are low.”

Dina snorts and shakes her head. “I must be on a lucky streak then,” she says, putting her hand on the log between them, close enough to brush Ellie’s leg.

Ellie narrows her eyes. Dina looks ahead, at the fire, and takes a sip from her drink.

Ellie twists the other way, away from Dina, to grab her own cup and drain it dry.

“For real, you should come,” Dina says, a little fast, like she can’t help herself.

Ellie looks at the cup, the fire, the snow. Anywhere but Dina.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

\--

After patrol, Ellie dumps her jacket, gloves, and boots, starts a fire in the heater, and boots up a new playthrough of her game. She’s not going to the dance, this time. For once, she’s going to do herself a fucking favor and take a night off from Dina and alcohol and Dina.

\--

She makes it until 4:37 before she checks the time. The dance is at seven.

For the people who’re going.

Ellie’s not going.

\--

By 6:32, she’s dying kind of a lot, in her game. She keeps thinking back to Dina at the bonfire, touching her arm, asking her to go.

Dina did that last year too. And look how that fucking went.

\--

Dina danced with her last year. Up close. Maybe the closest they’ve ever been. Close enough to pretend, for a moment, that things were different.

Ellie thought about that moment for months, afterward: Dina in her arms, leaning in, saying her name in a whisper, like a secret.

Was that worth it?

Is this worth it?

\--

At 7:28, Ellie congratulates herself on her restraint and self-control. Maybe there is hope for her, after all. Maybe she can shake this hopeless fruitless pointless stupid pathetic idiot thing for Dina, someday.

\--

At 7:56, Ellie cusses, mashes the power button to kill the PS3, and swaps her sweatshirt for a t-shirt and flannel.

What’s one more night? How much worse can it get?

\--

The dance is pretty busy, this late. Ellie dumps her coat on the pile, pours herself a drink, and finds a spot in the back where she can see the floor. It’s been just long enough for her to start second-guessing her decision when she catches a glimpse of Dina, strutting her stuff with Andre, sweeping gracefully around the couples who shuffle in place.

As always, her face seems to hold all the warmth in the room. Andre says something and she laughs. Ellie can almost hear it, that laugh, the way it peaks when Dina throws her head back.

Movement to her side breaks the spell. Jesse comes up beside her, waits a beat, and sighs. “I hate these things.”

Ellie snorts. “Tell me about it.”

Jesse glances at her and gestures with his cup. “Your old man really laid into me today.”

Joel. That dull ache.

Ellie keeps her voice neutral. “What happened?”

Jesse shrugs one shoulder. “Another big lecture about my patrols. Don’t go here, don’t go there. Funny how involved he gets whenever you’re scheduled to go out.”

So he’s still meddling. What else is new?

She starts to make a joke, then just says, “Yeah.”

It’s still hard to talk about Joel. Ellie scuffs her boot on the ground and thumbs the rim of her glass.

“She’s, uh, putting on quite the show,” Jesse offers, nodding at Dina. His usual on-a-break pining thing.

Ellie looks up in time for a dramatic, full-depth dip. Dina reaches so far back, her fingers brush the ground. She comes up laughing.

“I give you guys two weeks until you’re back together,” Ellie says drily.

Jesse turns to her with half a smile. “Not gonna happen.”

Ellie turns back to the floor. Dina’s talking to Andre; the song switches.

“She, uh, say something to you?” asks Jesse, his voice laced with hope.

Ellie snorts and looks at him, every inch the sucker. “Make it one week.”

“Ellie!”

Dina walks toward her across the floor, her breath short, her face and eyes bright and joyful. She aims that joy at Ellie like a spotlight, like a sun. Ellie stares, tries not to stare.

“Hey! What took you so long?”

Dina steps right into Ellie’s space and takes her cup.

Ellie watches her warily. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

Dina rests a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and tosses the drink back. Ellie watches her, frozen, trapped.

“Dina,” Jesse says, beside them.

“Jesse,” Dina says, a sneer. She skims down Ellie’s arm to take her hand. “C’mon.”

Dina’s palm is hot. She reaches back with her other hand and touches Ellie’s wrist. Ellie’s feet stutter in Dina’s wake.

Behind them, Jesse calls, “Don’t forget, we’re heading out early, so get some rest!”

Dina turns, gives Jesse an exaggerated salute with a matching roll of the eyes, and snarks, “Yes, sir.”

Ellie smirks. Dina switches their hands and leads Ellie around. “You’re such a dick,” Ellie says.

Dina smirks and frowns at her. “Come on,” she says, taking Ellie’s arms and drawing them around her, “don’t you start with me.”

Their bodies brush against each other. Ellie looks over Dina’s shoulder, trying to calm her racing pulse.

Dina rests her arms on Ellie’s shoulders, warm and solid. Her face is so close. Ellie keeps her eyes away, looking at the string lights, the rafters. There’s music, but she barely hears the notes.

Dina lowers her voice. “Okay, I have a very serious question for you.”

Dina tilts her head. Her face eclipses the room. Ellie tries not to look.

“How bad do I smell?”

Ellie looks at her, surprised, and finds Dina smiling at her, this soft, knowing smile. Her eyes are deep and dark.

Ellie looks away, bends forward, and inhales dramatically through her nose. Dina smells like sweat and alcohol, a sour, animal scent.

Ellie smiles and says, “Like a hot pile of garbage.”

Dina lifts her eyebrows. “Oh, okay,” she says, and she locks her arms, cranes her neck, and smears her damp cheek against Ellie’s.

Ellie groans, but Dina traps her, close.

“How about that?”

“Gross,” Ellie says, but when she opens her eyes, all she sees is Dina. She’s so, so close.

It feels like they’re going to kiss.

Dina turns to the side. Ellie bites her lip and reminds herself: _It’s not like that_.

“You love it,” Dina says. She pulls closer. She rests her head on Ellie’s shoulder.

 _I’m sorry_.

Ellie takes a stilted breath, trying to center herself under the overload of Dina in her arms, Dina breathing against her collarbone, Dina clutching her shoulder, Dina pressed flush against her, hot and close and real.

She looks around, searching for a distraction, a focus. She finds—eyes. Lots of eyes. A man walks past them, staring right at Dina, his eyes following the line of her neck and spine.

“Every guy in this room is staring at you right now,” Ellie thinks—but she hears it. She said it out loud.

Dina moves. Her nose brushes Ellie’s cheek. Ellie freezes.

Dina turns away again. “Maybe they’re staring at you,” she says, the words palpable, a puff of air on Ellie’s neck.

Ellie scoffs. “They’re not.” They’re not even subtle. She spots three more guys by the bar, staring.

“Maybe they’re jealous of you,” Dina says.

Jealous of… what?

They all know the truth as well as Ellie does. It isn’t like that.

“I’m… just a girl,” Ellie says. “Not a threat.”

Dina moves; draws back. Her eyes are blown, black glass. Her face glows in the light.

Time slows.

What is Dina doing?

“Oh, Ellie,” she says, saying her name that way she does, tucking her bangs back. “I think they should be terrified of you.”

What does that mean?

Hooked, helpless, Ellie looks at her, sees those eyes flick back and forth over her face.

Then Dina leans in and kisses her.

\--

Is this real?

\--

Ellie’s whole world is Dina: the arm on her shoulder; the hand cupping her neck; the smell of alcohol and sweat; the firm pressure of her mouth, dry and warm.

\--

For a moment, everything is perfect.

Two moments.

Three.

Perfect.

\--

Dina draws back slowly, her expression somber and strange. Ellie watches her, a living, pulsing heartbeat, elated, terrified.

“Hey!”

The world breaks in. Seth.

“This is a family event,” he says, stalking up to them.

Dina turns back to Ellie, distracted, then laughs and throws “Sorry” over her shoulder at Seth. Her hands slide from Ellie’s shoulders; she takes Ellie’s hand.

Ellie tries to glare at him, but she’s not sure it works. She feels far away from Seth. Light years away. She turns away and Dina copies her.

Dina’s not used to Seth’s glares. When he just stands there, she frowns. “Sorry!” She rolls her eyes and steps away, swinging Ellie’s hand.

Ellie watches only Dina.

Did that really happen?

“Remember next time there’s kids around,” Seth says, his lip curled in disgust.

Dina walks faster. “Yeah, like you’re setting such a great example,” she says over her shoulder.

Did Dina—kiss her?

She’s flying. Drowning.

Did Dina mean that?

“… Another loud-mouthed dyke,” Seth says, loud enough to break back in.

Ellie feels a cloud come over her. Dina looks at her, like she can see what’s coming.

She’d punch a bear for Dina right now. Seth is nothing.

Ellie whirls on him, full of adrenaline, full of fear and hope and rage, full for the first time in years.

“What the fuck did you just say?” she’s asking, advancing on him, pointing at him, staring him right in his fucking bug eyes.

Dina’s in front of her, touching her. Ellie sees only Seth. She’s never wanted her fist in someone’s face this badly.

A blur. Joel. He shoves Seth in the chest. “Get the hell out of here.”

Joel. Fucking Joel. The rage empties like sand into a sinkhole.

Maria separates them. Grabs Seth and pushes him out.

Ellie holds back and turns away.

“You all right, kiddo—?” says Joel, behind her.

She turns back. “What is wrong with you?” she snaps.

Joel looks at her, grimacing. “He had no right—”

“And you do?” she says, or yells, or maybe it comes out strangled. “I don’t need your fucking help, Joel.”

Joel looks to the side. His face—changes. People are staring at them.

There’s something about his face.

Before she can catch up, before she comes back to herself, Joel’s gone.

The world breaks back in.

What is she doing?

\--

In a haze, a trance, Ellie gets her coat and flees out into the snow. The cold air shocks her system; she bends over, leans on her knees, gasping, pumping ice into her lungs. She sees her coat on the ground in front of her. The black hole yawns, wide and cold and loud.

She can’t keep doing this.

\--

The path feels inevitable. The sky, the streets are dark. In the distance, she sees the porch light, ringed with moths.

\--

By the time she gets there, she’s not running anymore. She hears music from the porch. That song she used to play sometimes. The song Joel plays sometimes, by himself at night.

Strangely, there’s no fear when she mounts the stairs. The void inside hangs as if frozen, open and menacing but silent.

Joel only stops playing when she reaches the top. He sits forward and gasps, “Hey.” He looks at her with that same strange expression.

Ellie swallows and looks away; walks to the railing.

She taps the wood with her hands and glances at Joel. He takes the hint and joins her.

There’s a mug in his hands. “What’re you drinking?” she asks.

Joel snorts. “Coffee.”

Some things never change.

She frowns. “Where’d you get that?”

Joel frowns, too, thinking back. “Uh, those people that came through last week.”

“Oh.”

Ellie looks out across the street.

If she’d never gone to Salt Lake, would things have stayed like this? Talking about coffee, about bullshit? Leaving the lies buried?

“A little embarrassed as to what I had to trade to get it,” Joel adds, “but… it’s not bad.”

Ellie looks away and clasps her hands together. She’s not sure where to start. She isn’t sorry, not really, but she is… something.

“I had Seth under control,” she says. She watches as he nods, avoiding her eyes.

“Yeah,” he says to his mug, “I know.”

Braver, she continues, “And you need to stop harassing Jesse about my patrols.” She straightens up, waiting for him to look at her.

He doesn’t. He nods and tells his mug, “Okay.”

Ellie hesitates. She thought he would push.

When he says nothing, she exhales and relaxes a little. She rocks back on her heels, feeling her weight against the railing.

What else is she supposed to say?

“Dina,” Joel says.

Shit.

His face tells her nothing. Ellie looks away, holding her breath.

“Is she your… girlfriend?”

Fuck.

Is she—

“No,” Ellie blurts, loosing her breath. She squeezes her eyes shut and summons her mantra, her refrain: _It’s not like that_. She left before Dina could say it out loud, but it’s still coming, tomorrow, in the harsh light of day.

Inevitable.

“No,” she repeats, for him and for herself, “she— That was just—one kiss. It doesn’t mean anything. She just…” Ellie sighs, or pants. “I don’t know why she did that.”

“But you do like her,” Joel says, and after all that worrying and wondering, he doesn’t even seem to give a shit if she’s gay. And on top of everything, it’s so weird to have this conversation out loud, to share this with anyone but herself, to say it out loud and hear an answer come back that isn’t an echo.

Ellie breathes in, tries to speak, but she can’t summon words. She can’t even look at him.

She exhales. It feels like she’s shaking.

She scratches her chin on her shoulder. “I’m so stupid,” she mutters. So fucking stupid.

“Look,” Joel says, because he’s there, listening, answering, “I have no idea what that girl’s intentions are, but—but I do know that she would be lucky to have you.”

Ellie frowns. How can he just—say that?

After everything?

She grips the railing. Her chest hurts. The void opens wider, a fissure, a chasm.

No one’s fucking lucky to have her. Lucky would have been a fucking vaccine, four fucking years ago, in Salt fucking Lake. Then Dina would be eating fucking fries in the fucking mall with fucking Jesse and Ellie wouldn’t be there to care at all.

“You’re such an asshole,” she hisses.

It’s hard to talk. It feels like the words are buried so deep down.

“I’m not trying to—”

“I was supposed to die in that hospital,” she says, her hand opening, the fern leaves poking out of her sleeve. “My life would have _fucking_ mattered. But you took that from me.”

She tries to say more, but the words won’t come. It feels like she’s crying. When she exhales, it sounds wet.

Joel doesn’t say anything.

He looks at her, but when she looks back, he shies away.

Joel stands up and sets his mug on the railing. He makes that face, the face he made at the dance, when she yelled at him. He says, “If somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment… I would do it all over again.”

He turns to her, and she sees.

\--

It’s love, on his face.

That’s what it is.

\--

It was love, at the dance, pushing Seth. Here, on the porch, asking about Dina.

Outside Jackson, the day they got here. The day he lied.

At the hospital in Salt Lake City.

Love.

\--

It feels too big. Ellie looks away, at the dark cold softness of the night, at the snow on the ground and the rooftops and trees.

She doesn’t deserve this.

“Yeah…” she says, struggling. Her throat feels tight. Her hands flex against the wood.

How does this balance out? Which weighs more—love or betrayal? Which carries more pain?

She swallows. “I just… I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.”

Joel leans on the railing. It looks like he’s going to cry.

For once, the words just come.

“But… I would like to try,” she says. Her throat constricts. She squints to stem the tears forming; bends her arms against the railing.

Joel breathes out, loud. “I’d like that,” he says.

In the yard, a small green crocus peeks out of the snow. Ellie worries her hands and thinks of the fern leaves, of the moth on her arm, the teeth marks covered over and over again with new life.

“Okay,” she says, uncertainly. She grips the railing; feels the weight of her body, solid and real, tethering her to the earth. Anchoring her.

Ellie looks at him. He stares ahead, his jaw clenching.

It feels like there’s more to say, but she’s not sure where to start. There’ll be time for that tomorrow. The thought kindles that little ember of hope in her, unbearable, unkillable.

Instead, she says, “See you around.” It’s almost a question.

“Yep,” Joel says to his mug, his voice breaking.

Ellie turns away and walks out into the street. Her breath is shaky, uneven—loud, in the soft silence of winter night.

The great, terrible, empty silent loneliness inside her is quiet.

\--

What an absolutely insane, crazy, strange, life-altering night.

\--

Talking to Joel.

Almost punching Seth.

Dina.

\--

Fuck.

\--

That kiss. What was that kiss?

And what would Dina have said after, if Ellie hadn’t run out?

\--

The dark, stale air under the blankets whispers the answer.

Ellie brings herself back to the dance: she places Dina’s arms around her, her hand on Ellie’s neck, and watches Dina close in on her, her face a sun blotting out the sky.

The kiss was real. It was so hard to imagine, for so long, but it’s easy to remember it now.

But when Dina draws back, when Ellie holds Seth away, out of the picture, Dina sees her face and still she frowns.

 _It’s not like that_ , she says, eternally, inexorably. _It didn’t mean anything, Ellie. It can’t mean anything._

_I don’t like you like that._


	26. Gravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. This is the end. Thanks to each and every one of you who came on this journey with me; to everyone who left kudos or bookmarks or comments, know that I read them all, that I took all of them into my heart. Thanks especially to my wife, and to [Whiskeytango86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskeytango86/pseuds/Whiskeytango86), who were kind and helpful sounding boards. Feel free to find me directly on tumblr under the same pseudonym.
> 
> Some of you might be surprised by how I chose to end this story, but for me, there is no better or more natural resolution. So, enjoy, and... See you around.

A knock wakes Ellie from dreamless sleep.

It’s late. The room’s already light. “Shit. Fuck.”

She pads to the door and tugs loose hair from the collar of her sweatshirt.

“Hey,” she says, “sorry, I totally overslept, just gimme a minute and I’ll get dressed.”

“I heard you had quite a night after I left,” Jesse says, and Ellie realizes that she completely forgot Jesse existed for the whole time between Dina pulling her onto the dance floor and Ellie waking up one minute ago.

Jesse.

Dina.

Fuck.

“I…” Ellie lifts one hand, placating. But how do you soften something like this?

“She kissed me,” she admits. “It was just Dina being Dina. She didn’t mean anything by it,” she tells Jesse and herself both.

Jesse frowns, confused. “I was talking about your fight with Seth—wait. You kissed Dina?”

Fuck.

Double fucking Jesus fuck.

“Oh…” She struggles. “I thought that wa—”

Jesse looks at her in disbelief. “We’re broken up one week and you make a move on my girl?”

“No—” Ellie shuts her eyes. Why the fuck did she mention the kiss?

“She was probably just trying to make you jealous,” she explains, or tries to explain, because who ever fucking knows what Dina’s ever doing?

“I didn’t—I would never—” She winces, cuts herself off. “Fuck, this is awkward.”

Jesse cracks a smile. “I’m messing with you, man. I don’t care. Get dressed.”

Fuck, she could just punch him right now.

“Ugh. You’re the worst.” She slams the door.

He stops it with his hand and looks her level in the eye. “It’s kind of fucked up you did that.”

Ellie scoffs and shuts the door on him.

Jesse calls through it, “Get your stuff together. We’re already late!”

Ellie doesn’t bother changing. It’s just patrol. She grabs her shit off the desk and stops for her knife and boots.

“Hey, is Joel up?” she asks. She wanted to say hi, today. Test how to thaw things out.

“We got reports of infected out north. Maria sent him and Tommy out early to scout.”

“Huh. That sucks.”

“Yep. Can’t imagine they got much sleep. Definitely not as much as you,” Jesse teases.

“Shut up. I was just about to get up.”

\--

“Maria wants a word with you,” Jesse says when they get out to the street.

Maria must have gotten Jesse up early, too. “Where is she?”

“The diner.”

Fuck. “Is this about Seth?” It’s definitely about Seth.

“No clue,” he says, clearly lying.

“Just tell her you never saw me,” Ellie says, too tired and wired for this.

“Nope.”

Ellie scowls. “Where’s your fucking loyalty?”

Jesse looks half over his shoulder. “Excuse me?”

Okay. She deserved that.

It’s not like she initiated or anything, but it’s kind of fucked up, what happened.

Ellie opens the gate and checks his face. He’s so calm all the time, it’s hard to read him. “Hey, so… we’re okay, right?”

Jesse turns to her. “You and me? Yeah, of course. Dina and I are done.”

Done is their new thing. For another couple weeks, anyway.

“I know,” she says, not in the mood to argue the point. “I was just—I didn’t want you to think…”

“Ellie,” he says gently. “We’re cool. Promise.”

Another thing she probably doesn’t deserve. She bites her lip. “Thanks.”

\--

Outside the diner, Ellie passes too close to someone and overhears, “I heard there was something going on between them before. It’s why she and Jesse broke up.”

Ellie feels a solid stone of dread settle in her stomach. If this is all over town already, she doesn’t even want to imagine what the fuck Dina is gonna say the next time they talk.

\--

“Ellie!” Maria calls from the far end of the bar. “There you are. Come here.”

Ellie walks over, feeling that dread getting heavier.

Maria tips her chin toward the kitchen. “Seth’s got something he wants to say to you.”

Double fuck. “I don’t wanna hear what that bigot has to say,” Ellie says.

“Do it for me,” Maria says flatly, giving her a dour Maria glare. “Please.”

“Ugh. Fine.”

Maria calls him over. Ellie scuffs her shoe against the floor, then spots Seth coming out from the kitchen. Ellie cusses under her breath and shakes her head.

Seth lifts a hand, maybe in greeting. “Hey.”

It is way too fucking early for this shit.

Ellie lifts her arms in a half shrug.

Seth glances at Maria resentfully. “Uh, look,” he says, “last night I was, uh, I was drinking too much.”

Ellie sighs, wondering how to make this go faster. “Sure.”

Maria tries to catch her eye and Ellie shoots her a look. It’s not like Maria doesn’t know this shit with Seth was brewing a long time ago. 

“I’m trying to say I’m sorry,” he says, settling back into his usual glare. He looks at Maria for backup. “Maria tells me you and Dina are headed out?”

Seth looks at her for a response. Ellie forces a nod.

“I, um, I made you some sandwiches,” he says, putting a packet on the bar.

Ellie stares at it. Any bribe from Seth would have to be a lot bigger than this.

“Okay.”

Seth gestures at the packet and adds, “They’re steak.”

Ellie just waits. This has to end eventually.

Maria claps her hands and takes the packet on Ellie’s behalf, saying “Thank you, Seth” as she presses the sandwiches to Ellie’s chest.

Ellie holds the packet gingerly.

“Yeah, well, uh, you be safe out there,” Seth says, clearly hoping she won’t, and then retreats to the safety of the kitchen.

“Yup,” she calls back as sarcastically as she can.

Motherfucker. He’s lucky Joel pushed him last night, before Ellie could sock him in his smug fucking face.

\--

Jesse volunteers Ellie to take a trail with Dina. It feels pointed. Maybe it’s a fitting punishment, to make her spend a whole day marinating in Dina when she’s still burning from the dance.

They bump into Dina at the playground, messing around with some of the younger kids, throwing snowballs.

“Yo, Dina! Assignments!” Jesse calls.

Dina throws a snowball and doesn’t look. “Just gimme a minute!”

Jesse turns to Ellie. “Will you get your girlfriend to the stables, please?”

Ellie scoffs, but Jesse’s already gone. This is way too much. And Jesse, fucking rubbing it in. Fuck.

Ellie takes a deep breath and steps up to the fence to face the music.

“Hey, Dina,” she says, her voice a little thin, “can I talk to you?”

At her voice, Dina looks over. She turns back to the kids and says, “Guys? I’m tapping out!”

The kids complain. Dina shrugs and walks over. Ellie steels herself with another deep breath.

Dina looks down and twists her fingers together as she gets close. She smiles a little, shy. Maybe she’s embarrassed. She’s probably dreading telling Ellie it was a mistake.

“Hey,” Dina says.

“Hey.” Ellie swallows and looks away. “Um, I just wanted to say sorry for running off last night.” She forces herself to meet Dina’s eyes.

“Oh, that’s—it’s okay,” Dina says, shaking her head, “I totally get it.” She looks at Ellie, gentler and more open than usual. “I… I just, I felt bad,” she adds.

Something about the way she says it feels off. Does she know, already? That Ellie would misinterpret?

“Why?” Ellie asks before she can stop herself.

Dina shrugs and looks away. “Like, ‘cause I started the whole thing, and… I just shouldn’t have kissed you—”

Here it is. Here it comes.

“No, you were drunk, it’s fine,” Ellie says.

“Well, still,” Dina pushes, “I just, I don’t want you to think—”

“No, I’m not reading into it or anything, I’m just…” Ellie trails off.

Dina’s smiling, looking away. She shakes her head and gives Ellie a more familiar look: a smirk, one eyebrow up. “You know what I love about you?” she says, her eyes scanning Ellie’s face. “How you let me finish my sentences.”

Ellie looks away and sighs. “Alright. Well, we should probably get going.”

\--

“So, Jesse wants us to do the creek trails,” Ellie says as they walk. “He’s gonna relieve Joel and Tommy.”

“Oh,” Dina says. “That’s nice he assigned us together. You’re gonna like this route.”

 _Nice_. Sure.

\--

On the trail, Ellie keeps feeling eyes on her. But when she looks up, Dina’s always looking at the trail, or the trees, or the sky.

Clearly sleeping it off didn’t work as well as she hoped it would.

\--

Maybe half an hour in, the fourth time she thinks about it, Ellie finds herself saying, “Do you miss being with him?”

“With Jesse?” Dina asks, almost incredulous, like they’ve been broken up for years. She snorts. “No!”

Ellie frowns. “You’ve been together for so long.”

“Look, Jesse’s great, I love his parents… They will always be family, but we were just on autopilot,” Dina says.

Autopilot. It’s weird to hear Dina assign a reason to it. Their breaks were always just breaks.

Not that Ellie ever had the guts to ask, before.

“Hey, how come we never talked about this stuff?” she asks.

“I dunno,” Dina says from up ahead. “It didn’t feel… You never really talked to me about Cat.”

Guess they’re both breaking their rules today, bringing up Jesse and Cat both at once.

Ellie tries to read Dina’s back and shoulders. “Yeah, ‘cause… There isn’t much to talk about.”

“Yeow,” Dina draws out sarcastically.

Ellie hesitates. “I just—I—I got the impression that you didn’t really like her,” she tries.

Dina threads through the trees. “I don’t care about her one way or the other,” she says, the way she says she doesn’t care when it starts raining, or when the gear checker gives her the rifle that jams.

Ellie laughs. “Okay.”

Dina starts to scoff. “No—I think she’s a talented artist,” she says. “I’ve grown to like that tattoo of yours.”

“That’s so big of you,” Ellie says, sarcastic.

“ _And_ I think she wasn’t right for you,” Dina continues, like she can’t help herself, like the words snuck out on their own.

This is definitely the closest she’s ever come to explaining what the fuck went on, back then.

It feels dangerous to push, though.

“Interesting.”

Dina looks over her shoulder, then snaps her head forward and says, “Shut up.”

Ellie squints at her. “Okay…”

It nags at her, a little. Ellie remembers coming back from Salt Lake: the argument she and Dina had. That night, for a minute, she thought maybe Dina was jealous of Cat, and that was why things blew up the way they did.

She’s never been able to assemble the pieces that way again, though. She can’t reconcile that idea with the Dina she knows, the Dina who touches her with the confident trust of friendship, the Dina who always comes back around to Jesse.

It doesn’t mean anything, she reminds herself, shaking it loose like snow from a tree branch. It isn’t like that.

_I shouldn’t have kissed you._

_You’re so fucking stupid._

\--

“It’s this way,” Dina says, leading her into a side room and through a broken wall to the outside. Dina draws up to the railing and eases down onto her elbows. Beyond her is the white, distant valley, dusted with heavy snow and a blue, hazy morning mist.

Ellie comes up beside her, leaving space between them. The railing is wet and icy through her jacket. The air feels cold and clean, so dry it almost hurts.

“What do you think of this view, huh?” Dina asks.

Ellie keeps her eyes forward. “It’s pretty nice,” she admits.

“Yeah, this route has its perks,” Dina says, turning to her. Normally, Dina would smile, but now she’s not smiling. Her expression is serious, her eyes lively and deep. It’s a bit like she looked at the dance, after they kissed.

For a second, Ellie waits for it: _It’s not like that._

Instead, Dina just looks at her. She breathes out a cloud into the cold.

What is Dina doing?

Ellie forces herself back; she takes a shaky breath and turns away. “Where do we sign in?”

Dina snorts, taps the railing, and backs away. “Come on.”

Ellie lets out a ragged sigh. “Fuck,” she mutters, just to herself.

It’s gonna be a long fucking day of this fucking shit.

\--

“What’re you doing tonight?” Dina asks as Ellie checks a drawer.

“Uh…” Ellie chews her lip. “I was thinking of inviting Joel to watch a movie.”

“Oh,” Dina says, surprised. “You guys… good?”

Maybe. Soon.

“Yeah.”

\--

“What about you?” Ellie asks, looking up through the busted siding. “What’re you doing later?”

Dina hops to the ground next to her. “Some people were talking about sneaking out,” she says with a laugh. “Going sledding.”

Ellie chuckles and ducks into the next house. Sounds like a standard night for Dina. “That sounds fun.”

“Yeah,” Dina says. Then, “You want to—meet up after?”

What?

“Uh… okay…”

What is Dina doing?

Ellie can’t help herself. “Maybe I’ll… play guitar for you,” she offers.

Dina smiles at her, that pure, delighted smile, her teeth showing for a second. “Okay.”

Ellie ducks her head into a cupboard and tries to center herself.

_It didn’t mean anything. I shouldn’t have kissed you._

\--

The supermarket is an absolute shitshow inside. It might be a new personal record for kills. When they clear the last room, Dina holsters her pistol and says, “You know what? I’m impressed with us.”

Ellie smiles at her, reloading her gun with loose bullets from a countertop.

“Okay,” Dina says, waving her hand, “let’s go to the next lookout and take a fucking break. We earned it.”

“Agreed.”

\--

All that time inside, they couldn’t hear the storm picking up. The wind outside is harsh, howling, blowing powder on them that chafes like sand.

Dina and Japan take the lead to the lookout, but the snow picks up fast. Just after they leave sight of the supermarket, the snow grows heavier, wetter, collecting on their bags and shoulders and the backs of the horses.

“How far away is the lookout?” Ellie yells over the storm.

“A few minutes out!”

Ellie pulls her hood up. “Okay!”

\--

Dina turns past a tree and Shimmer hesitates. The storm’s making her nervous.

“I know, girl,” Ellie soothes over the storm, touching Shimmer’s mane, her fingers stiff in her gloves. “I know. Keep going.”

Ahead, the path is empty, Japan’s tracks quickly filling in. “Dina, how much further?” Ellie calls.

No response.

“Dina?”

Shimmer passes through an open metal truck. On the other side, there’s still no sign of Dina. She feels a bolt of terror run through her. In winter, getting separated outside can be more dangerous than infected. Either or both of them could freeze to death easily.

And even if the storm clears, Ellie doesn’t know where she’s going.

“Shit,” Ellie pants, scanning the clearing. She looks for tracks, but the snow is too heavy, swept smooth by the wind and fresh powder. “Dina, where are you?” she yells.

Ellie directs Shimmer around. She can feel Shimmer fighting her, trying to go slow. Ellie cusses under her breath.

What should she do now?

“Dina!” she tries again, rounding a curve.

Then, in the distance: “Ellie!”

Thank fuck.

She’s so relieved she almost cries.

\--

The building is cold, but clear. The whole space is bookshelves, still packed with books. Faded letters on the window spell _library_.

In the back room, Dina gasps softly. “All this electronics stuff… this has to be Eugene’s.”

Ellie tucks a handful of spare parts in her backpack and asks, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Dina says, touching something on one of the shelves. “Nobody else would tinker with this shit. But why would he hide it from me?”

\--

Whatever the reason, Eugene was hiding a lot of shit in here. Lamps, heaters, books, letters, a TV, a workbench, a big generator.

“Oh, hello,” Dina says after they get the power on. She points her toe at light showing through the edges of the floorboards. “Ellie, look at the floor! There’s more stuff down there.”

Ellie retraces their steps through the room. On a back wall, more light peeks through a lone bookshelf. “Come on,” Ellie says, and they push the shelf aside to reveal a stairwell.

“What’s he got down here?” Dina asks.

“Well, it’s obviously a sex den,” Ellie says as she descends. “That’s why he didn’t tell you about it.”

“I hope it’s a sex den, for his sake,” Dina says. “He was so lonely, man.”

Ellie pushes the door open. “Oh… oh my god,” she says, looking at the forest of dead potted plants. “It’s weed.”

“It’s a lot of dead weed,” Dina says, a touch mournful.

Even though the plants have been dead a while, the whole room retains some of that stale smell. Ellie trails Dina inside, watching her look around, gently touch the dry leaves.

Dina glances at her and Ellie pulls her eyes away.

\--

Next to a ratty couch, Ellie spies the mason jars Dina used to bring to bonfires and the lake. Most of them are empty, but one isn’t. Ellie picks it up. “Ah,” she says, holding it out as Dina comes up behind her.

“Oh, there we go,” Dina says, her lips pulling into a sly smile.

Ellie tilts the jar and the joints tip over. “You think it’s still good?”

“Does weed go bad?” Dina asks. She smirks.

Ellie shrugs and hums _I dunno_. “Let’s find out,” she says, twisting the lid. The lid doesn’t budge.

She tucks the jar into her body and twists harder. It doesn’t fucking move.

She feels Dina’s eyes. She looks up and sure enough, Dina’s looking right at her, smirking, setting her bag down.

There’s no way out, now. Ellie braces the jar against her leg and tries again.

“You having a hard time?” Dina asks, clearly enjoying this.

“No, I got it.” It’ll give, in another second—then her hand slips. “Fuck.”

“Give me that,” Dina says, taking the jar out of her hands with that smug smirk.

“Oh, yeah, like you’re gonna get it,” Ellie says. She slides her bag off and unzips her coat.

Thankfully, Dina’s struggling, too. She bends over to try again and then shakes her hand out. “Okay, it’s…”

“Yeah.”

Ellie dumps her coat on the table and leans on the arm of the couch. Dina grunts, then says “Fuck it” and throws the jar straight into the ground. It shatters.

Ellie bites down on a smile. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Dina glares and rolls her eyes. “I got it open, didn’t I?”

Her glare has a smirk underneath it. Ellie sighs, trying not to smile, and crouches down to pick a joint out of the debris. She looks up at Dina, who toes off her boots, her skin a warm gold against her dark vest.

Ellie smells the joint cautiously, but it smells normal, like any other one she’s ever smoked. She stands up and offers it to Dina. “Smells good,” she says uncertainly.

Dina takes the joint, then pins Ellie with this deep, dangerous look. She tucks the joint between her lips, steps back, and looks pointedly at the couch. “I mean…” She puts those eyes back on Ellie and flicks her lighter against her leg. “We’re gonna be stuck here a while, right?”

Dina looks Ellie up and down as she sits.

This feels like a real fucking bad idea.

Ellie checks Dina’s face as she sits next to her. “Totally trapped,” she says, as neutrally as she can. She puts one leg up, holding space between them. Here, now, alone with her, the pull toward Dina feels stronger than usual.

Dina sits back and exhales smoke in a slow, careful stream. It feels drawn out somehow, the way her movements seem slow when Ellie watches her at a bonfire. Like she feels Ellie watching.

In moments like this, it’s hard to hold herself back.

Dina looks at her and offers to pass. “Can I ask you a question?”

Ellie smiles, caught, and scratches her ear. She takes the joint and snarks, “I don’t know, can you?”

“Scale of one to ten,” Dina starts. Ellie passes back. Dina looks up as she thinks. “One being, like, absolute trash, and ten being… life-altering—”

Dina smiles at her, then bites her lip. Her eyes are a tide, an undertow. Ellie stares, tries not to stare.

Dina shifts closer to her. “How would you rate our kiss from last night?”

Wait.

What?

What is Dina doing?

“Why are we still talking about this?” Ellie asks, wary, worried. Dina passes back and Ellie looks at her hand—gathers herself to say it, to make it true. “You said it was a mistake,” she reminds them both.

Dina looks at the ceiling and frowns. “Did I say that?” she asks, making that _you’re a doofus_ face.

Wait.

What—

Ellie sits forward, following that pull, that gravity, looking back and forth between Dina’s deep, dark eyes. For once, she just asks.

“What are you doing?”

Dina looks away, shyly. She fidgets. “I asked you to rate our kiss,” she says softly, scanning Ellie’s face, her eyes deep and dark and open.

For a second, it’s tempting. To be honest.

Ellie looks down. For all the temptation, she still hears that mantra, a murmur: _It isn’t like that_.

She shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says, afraid of her answer, afraid of Dina’s answer. She looks up, hopeful despite herself.

Dina looks to the side and says, with this coy little smile, “I’d give it a six.”

Ellie stares. “A six?”

Dina passes back. Ellie looks at their hands, nodding, processing. No punches pulled today, apparently. “Wow.”

“Like a solid six,” Dina amends.

“Okay,” Ellie says, stung.

“There were a lot of people around,” Dina continues.

“Yeah, but, six?” Ellie looks up, her face pinched.

“Oh, what?” Dina looks at her, curious—eager. “I mean, now I really want to know how you’d rate it.”

Ellie looks down and buries the answer inside herself. “I don’t think you do.” When she looks up, Dina’s glaring at her, so pissed off it makes Ellie smile.

“You’re infuriating,” Dina says, trying to glower, trying not to smile.

Ellie looks at her, her hair damp with melted snow, her eyes fierce. “Have you met you?” she teases.

Dina leans toward her. “You make me want to go back outside into that blizzard,” she says, her voice low.

It’s hard to hold herself back.

Maybe it’s impossible.

Ellie leans closer. “No one is stopping you,” she says.

Dina bites her lip.

Her face is so close.

Ellie tilts her head, just a little.

Instead of turning away, instead of pulling back, Dina moves in. She whispers, “This better be better than a six.”

Ellie flicks the joint away, takes Dina’s face in her hands, and kisses her.

And for all she pulls Dina in, Dina pushes up against her.

Dina kisses back.

\--

It did mean something.

This means something.

\--

Dina touches her face and presses against her, gentle and strong, a river current, an avalanche. It coaxes something up and out of her—not the lonely black void, but a lush, thirsty hope, a weed snaking out of cracked dry soil, a crocus in the snow.

For a second, they separate, and Dina smiles at her, this small, soft, perfect smile. She looks only at Ellie.

Ellie kisses her again, collapsing every pause and hesitation over the years, elapsing that perilous space between them. Dina pushes into her, shifting her leg on the couch, and Ellie touches her waist and tips her, laying her down, lying against her. Dina makes a noise against her mouth; her fingers catch Ellie’s sweatshirt.

Ellie moves her mouth to Dina’s jaw, to her throat. “Ellie,” she hears, right in her ear, and fuck if that isn’t the best her name’s ever sounded.

She draws back and looks down at Dina, her eyes wide and pitch dark, her face flushed, her lips parted. It feels too big, almost, this thing she’s wanted for so long. She’s not even sure what to say; where to begin.

Dina cups her neck and pulls her back down.

\--

“Ellie,” Dina breaks off to say, pulling her sweatshirt up. Ellie props up on one hand and helps it over her head, then switches hands to shake it onto the floor. Dina looks down at her chest, but Ellie lies back down against her, fitting their mouths together. Dina’s fingers skate down her back and she shivers.

Ellie runs a hand up Dina’s side and front, feeling blindly for a zipper pull. Dina wriggles a hand between them and unzips, then twists and whines a little. Ellie sits back on her heels so Dina can sit up, fight her vest off, pull her shirt off. Her undershirt catches, bunched up around her ribs, and for a second Ellie forgets that this time, she’s allowed to look. She checks Dina’s face and finds her cheeks pink, her hair mussed, her gaze hungry.

“Dina,” she says, touching Dina’s bare waist. Her skin is hot and smooth.

“Ellie,” Dina teases, smirking at her, but Ellie eases Dina back down onto the couch, pushes her undershirt up under her arms, and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to Dina’s breast. Dina digs her fingers in her hair and mutters, “Fuck.”

Ellie smirks and scrapes her teeth over a nipple. “Is that a request?” she asks, sliding her hand down Dina’s side, over her thigh.

Dina snorts, but instead of making a joke, she tugs Ellie’s hair and says, “Maybe.”

“Yeah?” Ellie lifts up to check Dina’s face. Her eyes are deep, molten, her lips parted, her expression solemn. Dina touches Ellie’s cheek and nods, just slightly. Ellie wets her lip and sits back a little, stunned for a second.

Her eyes drop to Dina’s jeans, to the gun and knife against her thigh. “Take, um, then take this shit off,” she says, snapping the strap of the holster.

Dina pulls her leg out from behind Ellie and swivels, unbuckling the straps, unbuttoning her jeans. “You, too,” she says with a smirk, her eyes dragging over Ellie’s body shamelessly, pointedly. “If you fuck me with your socks on, I’m never letting you live it down.”

Ellie laughs and almost chokes, her throat is so tight. She yanks her boots and socks off and by the time Dina’s in her underwear, Ellie is, too.

It’s not like she’s never seen this before, swimming at the lake, but it kind of _is_ like she’s never seen this before. At least, it was never like this; it was never for her.

“Kiss me, dummy,” Dina says, snapping her out of it.

Ellie kisses her eagerly, hungrily, so forceful that Dina has to reach behind her to stay upright. “Fuck, Ellie,” Dina says, smiling into the kiss, taking Ellie’s face in her hands.

Ellie grips Dina’s hips and shifts so they tumble back down onto the cushions.

Dina’s hands wander, now, leaving trails of fire down Ellie’s neck, arms, and back. A heel hooks over the back of her thigh and Dina rises up against her and bites her lip. Ellie touches Dina’s waist and slides over the soft curve of her hip down to her waistband.

She breaks off, panting, to check Dina’s face. “Is this…?”

Dina rolls her eyes and smiles. That look is so familiar, but it’s strange to see it so intimately. She can feel Dina’s breaths push up against her, feel the faint ripple of a silent laugh.

Dina pulls her back down and kisses her.

Ellie pushes her hand under the fabric and touches her. They both gasp. She moves her fingers slowly, testing, mapping, and Dina drops her head back and moans.

When her eyes open, they’re gleaming, shining. Gently, tentatively, Ellie slides one finger inside her. Dina shudders and clutches her back, her neck. Her blunt nails scratch Ellie’s skin. Her eyes are deep and dark, a well, an ocean.

“Dina,” she says, her throat raw and dry.

Dina peers at her; her hand lifts from Ellie’s neck to tuck her hair behind her ear. Softly, tenderly, Dina says, “What are you waiting for?”

Ellie smiles, adjusts her hand, and starts to move.

\--

It should feel like a dream, maybe, after all this time, all this waiting and wanting.

Instead, it feels more real than anything else. More real than any dream or nightmare. More real than any pain or fear. More real than the sun or the stars in the sky.

The world is this room, Dina’s hands on her back, Dina’s hair falling loose against the cushion, Dina’s hips rocking against her. Dina’s eyes, liquid and bottomless, swallowing her whole.

\--

Slowly, then suddenly, Dina gasps, grasping her shoulder, her neck. “Ellie,” she says, a whimper, rolling against Ellie’s hand, her eyes squeezing shut. Ellie presses with her thumb and curls her fingers; Dina buries her head in Ellie’s shoulder and comes with a soft cry.

Ellie eases her hand out, carefully. Dina’s arms loosen around her neck; Dina drops her head back against the couch with a heavy, contented sigh.

Ellie stares, awed and humbled. “Was that…” she tries to ask.

Dina touches her forehead, then looks at Ellie with hooded eyes, wearing a smile Ellie’s never seen before. She touches Ellie’s cheek. “That…” Dina bites her lip and reconsiders, her eyes huge and close, flicking back and forth between Ellie’s. “It feels like that was a long time coming,” she says softly.

“I…” Ellie tries to make a joke, because usually she would, but this moment feels too serious, too holy and real. “It was,” she says instead, honest and raw. “For me, at least.”

Dina looks at her deeply. Her fingers trace Ellie’s face. “Me, too,” she says.

\--

For once, there are too many things to say, to ask. For once, Ellie feels full instead of empty, a river after heavy rain, a sinking ship embracing the sea.

This time, she’ll say it all; she’ll share her mistakes, her scars, her joys and dreams, all the secrets she buried in that empty black hole. This time, she swears, she’ll do everything right.

\--

As Dina caresses her, touches her, fills her, the only word she says is Dina’s name.

There will be time for the rest, later.

Dina presses her mouth to her throat and Ellie reaches for her. She sinks her fingers in Dina’s hair, thick and warm. When she gasps, opens her eyes, she sees the black fern embracing them both, enveloping them.

Ellie feels herself open to it all: to hope; to love.

New life.


	27. Epilogue

In a strange way, leaving is a relief. From the guilt. Frustration. Futility.

It feels easier, lighter, out here, a rifle on her shoulder, the sky open above her. Less oppressive. Less caged. The lonely, screaming void, the vacuum of grief—their pull is weaker now that she follows their current.

\--

On the second day on the road, she starts to come back to herself. She wakes feeling hungry, alive. Food has taste. When a breeze comes, she turns her face toward it.

\--

As evening falls, looking for a place to make camp, the weight of Dina against her back, of Dina’s hands in her pockets, brings a new feeling of guilt. Ellie knows she’s been distant, since—everything. She’s barely said anything since they left Jackson. Dina hasn’t asked anything, either.

They choose an old barn, tonight, one whose roof is still intact. It smells of earth and animals, dirt and life. In unspoken symmetry, in natural tandem, they unpack the gear from the saddlebags, lay out bedrolls, set up a campfire. Dina starts cooking while Ellie pulls the saddle off and finds Shimmer a safe spot to pasture.

Ellie hesitates in the doorway as she comes back inside. It’s dark in the barn; Dina’s barely visible, her silhouette a dim shadow in the weak flame of the small fire. She moves with confidence, with purpose, always focused, always present.

“Hey, babe,” Ellie says as she comes up behind her.

Dina turns to her with that small, soft smile. She’s so beautiful it almost hurts to look at her.

“Found something very exciting when we hit that store earlier,” Dina says, excitement shining in her eyes. “I wanted to surprise you.”

She hands Ellie a squat, empty tin can. Ellie turns the label toward the light. “Green chiles?”

“Not sure how it’ll taste with beans, but it’s gotta be better than just beans, right?”

Ellie snorts. Her eyes skip back to Dina. Dina, the only bright spot in this black tunnel, the sun in the dark desolation of space. Dina, who lets her talk or not talk, who makes silence easy and safe, who holds her and gentles her when she startles awake at night. Dina, who hunts rabbits, cooks meals, protects, tidies, tames, unflappable, unbreakable.

Dina, who followed her without question, who left her life behind for an uncertain, dangerous journey. Dina, who has done anything, everything, for her.

Ellie crouches, hesitant, and sets down close beside Dina, their legs overlapping. Dina pauses, just for a moment, but doesn’t say anything. She brings the spoon to her lips, blows on it, then takes a tentative taste.

“Not as bad as I thought,” Dina says, offering it to her. “Hope you don’t mind a little kick.”

Ellie tries it, and it’s really a little too spicy for her, but the heat, the burn, feels nice anyway. It draws her out, back into herself, back into the world.

\--

When the can is empty, Ellie gives in to Dina’s gravity, her head heavy on Dina’s shoulder. Dina rests a hand on her knee, firm, reassuring.

“Did you know?” Ellie asks. She feels Dina turn, her cheek pressing Ellie’s forehead. “When you invited me to the dance. Did you… Were you already planning to kiss me?”

There’s a beat, a silence. Dina squeezes her knee. “Yeah, I was, actually,” she says, a smile in her voice.

Ellie swallows, hard, but her throat feels a little looser. The words come a little easier. “Do you still like me now?” she asks, baring her fears as bravely as she can. “When I’m… I’ve been… different, since…”

She struggles. The rest fades out. She pulls her head up, her knees up, and sighs at herself.

Her eyes go to Dina.

Dina looks at her and smiles almost sadly, her eyes deep, shining in the dark. She touches Ellie’s cheek, skims it with her thumb. “Ellie,” she says, her name a prayer, a covenant. “Of course I still like you. I… I’m in _love_ with you.”

Ellie stares. Falters.

“I think I was in love with you the whole time,” Dina says. She bites her lip. “I think it’s always been you.”

For once, the tears that come are tears of joy. Only joy.

“Me, too,” she manages, sniffling, and then Dina kisses her, deep and strong and sure.

\--

Later, burrowed together in the bedroll, watching Dina’s steady, even breaths, Ellie tucks Dina’s hair behind her ear and winds the tape back in her mind. Tonight, she winds far past what happened with Joel that fateful night. She winds back before, before the attack, before the dance. She winds back over every pause, every almost-kiss they almost shared, until she finds that first false prophecy she wrote for herself alone in her room in the dark. The first time she made Dina stop, and frown, and turn away; the first time she made Dina lie.

Brutally, deliberately, she plucks the lie from Dina’s lips. And then, carefully, she stitches the image back together with the truth, the truth too big and powerful to name until now, the truth that swallows her like a typhoon, like a deluge.

This time, when she closes the gap, when she elapses the space between them, Dina looks at her steadily and says, _I’m in love with you, Ellie._

_I think it’s always been you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who read and enjoyed this story, and especially those who commented to let me know things that you liked or disliked or noticed or just things that made you feel things. You all mean the world to me.
> 
> Wondering wtf was going on with Dina this whole time? Check out the companion story, [Oasis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26349037/chapters/64170688).


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